Fallen Fates
by Laurie Archer
Summary: So I went from Supernatural fangirl to true vessel of Clotho, a Greek Fate. So I embraced the power of the Moirai and forced it on my cousin and her friend. So, I fell in love with Mick Davies, saved him from death. What the Hell makes me think that I can beat Lucifer, keep him from his unborn child, while dealing with the British Men of Letters? Oh, because I'm a Fate, bitches.
1. Chapter 1

**Fallen Fates**

An old fanfiction of mine that has undergone major changes. It's better than the original. Trust me.

I watch them talk like teenagers, staring with frustration. Can't they shut up? How can we watch our favourite TV show if they're talking and laughing the whole time? They probably don't have a clue what's going on! I barely have an idea of what's going on. I'm probably going to have to watch the episode again.

I manage to block them out while Sam and Dean Winchester worry about their mother. She's totally hunting with Arthur Ketch and hasn't yet told them. Those Men of Letters can't be trusted. To them, if it's a monster, it has to die. The Winchester way is much better. That Mick guy isn't so bad, at least he tries to be nice.

Between the Men of Letters, my cousin and her friend, I'm bound to blow a gasket with all my frustration and kill someone. _Supernatural_ is supposed to be my happy time!

The screens cuts to a commercial and I glare at the two of them. I hate watching my favourite show with them, but the rent of our apartment is too expensive for just one person with our minimum wage jobs.

Talk about bullshit.

I'd watch _Supernatural_ on my laptop, but I'd have to wait a day and my computer would buffer. Not really the best option. So I suck it up and put up with them. I'm starting to wonder if it's worth it.

But this time I'm ready to punch them in the face.

When my cousin and I decided to rent an apartment together, it was just to be close to work, easier on our bank accounts. Then her friend moves in and they become pains in my ass. I'm like the only grownup in the damn apartment. I continuously have to clean up after them! They're like teenagers!

I get up to get myself a can of 7Up. Right now would be a good time for a glass of wine, but with those two, they'd drink it all. And then I'd need another glass just to deal with that problem. The point is, I might become an alcoholic with these two if I were to have a glass of wine.

I grab a can from the fridge and pop it open, taking a chug.

As I make my way back, I hear them talking softly, like I'm not supposed to hear. So I stop and listen. Curiosity, I guess.

"I got the candles." Lindsey says.

"Good. We could start tonight. There's a New Moon." Says my cousin, Amelia.

Fuck. What the Hell are they planning? You know, I regret letting those two find out that I was studying Wicca. While I take it seriously, those two think Wicca is fun and magic, like _Charmed_ can be done in real life. What a joke.

This is exactly what I mean by referring to them as teenagers. They dabble with things. Next it'll be ouija boards and summonings. Oh joy, our apartment will soon be the next place for Zak Bagans to investigate.

I walk in just as _Supernatural_ returns and they fall silent as to watch, but they start talking again, making me wish I could turn 7Up into fucking wine. I could use that shit.

I crawl into bed and lay my head on my pillow, letting my eyes close. I wish my life was a little more like _Supernatural_ , but then again, maybe I just wish for a better job and a better apartment. That way, I won't die. Every woman on _Supernatural_ dies eventually. Meg was the only one that made it so long. And Mary, well, despite coming back from the dead, might very well go back at the end of season twelve or maybe in season thirteen.

There has to be a season thirteen. It would be the best. Supernatural. Thirteen. Perfect.

I fall asleep, drifting into the dark abyss of slumber that takes me to dreamland, where I hope to have great vivid dreams. Much like the one I had of Tom Ellis as Lucifer where we had sex and later I visited him with our daughter. He was a great Dad. Damn that was sexy, although having a dream of having sex with Lucifer should alarm me.

But it's Tom Ellis, so I'm not worried. That has to be the sexiest Lucifer I have ever seen.

Until I start thinking of Kelly Kline, pregnant with Lucifer's kid.

Son of a bitch, get a grip, Celeste! It's a fucking TV show and you have nothing to worry about. It was a fucking dream! Man, I'm losing my mind. If that's true, going insane better be more fun less paranoia.

I wake up from my sleep, groggy, feeling as if something tugged me out of my abyss. I open my eyes and see the dark of my room, but I sense something isn't right. It's causing me to feel anxious and I want to move, but then everything spins and blurs, like I'm under a bad dizzy spell. I can only imagine this is what it's like to be stuck in a car that's twisted out of control and is rolling.

Suddenly, I drop on something hard, hitting my head, rocking my head with pain. I feel such anxiety wash over me that I'm so overwhelmed. I snap my eyes open and feel a heavy pressure on me, feel it slipping into me, knocking me back against the hard floor. At that moment, I return to my dark abyss, but it's not so much sleep as it is a lack of consciousness.


	2. Chapter 2

The place is eerily abandoned, eerily in the sense that you can feel a presence although no one has step foot on the property for several decades. The old hospital had nothing but tragedies. Most hospitals have deaths, but this one had strange deaths. Sick as well as healthy died, the strangest death was choking on Jell-O. No one could explain why people would trip over their own feet and hit the floor, dead.

The hospital closed and it didn't take long before people began to vandalize its walls, teenagers investigated for cheap thrills and Satanists tried to conjure demons.

Soon, people believed the hospital was standing on a hell mouth and deemed it an evil haunted location. Religious people tried to tear it down, but most decided to leave it alone, in case they open the gates of Hell.

That's adorable. Dean looks at it and shakes his head. They were at the gates of Hell years back and this isn't it.

"It's just haunted." He says and Sam comes around with a bag of equipment.

"We'll see." He replies and they go in to take a look. The neighbourhood is more or less abandoned too because no one wanted to live close to that Hell hole.

The Winchester brothers walk up to the old hospital, ready to take on whatever ghost it hides.

Sam's phone rings and Dean glances at him disapprovingly. He knows that's Mick calling, the douchebag of the douchebags Men of Letters. Sam checks his phone, apparently it's just a text message.

"We have to report when we're done." Sam says, pocketing his phone.

"Report my ass." Dean says and Sam frowns at him.

"You said you would give Mick a chance." He replies.

"I know, but since when do we report to douchebags in monkey suits?" Dean replies with disgust.

"It's how they work." Sam says and Dean just shakes his head. He doesn't like any of it, but Mick isn't so bad, just naive despite his knowledge of monsters. However, having knowledge doesn't make one wise. And he is not wise. He didn't know about the spell for the bullets of the Colt.

And Ketch? A jerk.

They walk into the old hospital and look around. It looks like shit. Smells like it too. Debris everywhere, probably lethal to touch and the air, not the best to breathe in. They'll probably be sicker than a dog by the time they get out. You wouldn't see a guy like Mick walk into a place like this.

It's eerily quiet, the atmosphere heavy, and they immediately feel like something doesn't want them there. Yup, they've got a hunt here.

They glance down the dark corridors, getting out their flashlights and their guns. There's no movement, not even a breeze, but they often had things pop out at them. They turn down a corridor together, keeping their eyes open. So far, there's nothing except for that chilling feeling that something is watching them.

They move further into the building, scanning everything. They turn into another corridor and at the end are two large doors, slightly open. At that moment, they feel a breeze, which is odd because there aren't any windows. Immediately, Sam and Dean get the chills.

"Something doesn't feel right." Sam says. They check the doors down the corridor, keeping their attention on the doors at the end. Whatever it is about this place, they might find what they're looking for beyond those doors.

They approach with caution and push the doors open, entering slowly. It's a large room. It had been the cafeteria long ago, but now tables and chairs were pushed back, broken, clearing the centre. There are pillars to support the ceiling, making it look like a great spot for any teens that think summon demons in a satanic ritual is a good idea.

So far, that's what it looks like with three bodies in the very centre of the room.

Dean keeps his attention on their surroundings while Sam checks on them.

"They're breathing." He says and Dean goes to check, certain they're alright. He looks down and sees three young women that don't fit the description of satanists. It makes him wonder why the Hell they're in an old abandoned and haunted hospital.

They look at the cement floor just beneath the women and stare. They don't see anything, but feel as though their attention is being pulled to that piece in the floor.

"What do you think happened?" Sam asks, but Dean doesn't have the slightest clue. They don't look like women that would go to a haunted location.

At least not in their pyjamas.


	3. Chapter 3

I open my eyes, feeling like I drank a dozen bottles of wine, rolled in a car and got knocked the fuck out by a boxing champion. My head is pounding and my body is overwhelmed by it all, I want to run, remain in place, take deep breaths and vomit. It's like I don't know what to do to stop the pain.

Maybe another blow to the head.

But that might kill me…

Well, there wouldn't be pain…

I try to move, but the pain is intensified. I close my eyes and then I feel something that makes my skin crawl. I feel like something is… I don't even know how to describe it. It pulls me back in despite my struggles.

There's darkness and I'm surrounded by it. No, cloaked by it. It's strange, yet familiar. It frightens me and yet comforts me. I see a light and approach it, not sure I'm even moving. I see an old fashion thread spinner, like a scene out of _Sleeping Beauty_. However, I know it has nothing to do with that. It's much older than that. I have no idea how it works and yet, my hands seem to know exactly what to do, but I deny them.

I step back and everything fades back to darkness.

I open my eyes and take a moment before my brain starts to process what I'm seeing. There's a bedside lamp that illuminates the dark room. There's nothing on the walls. The colours are dull. The furniture seems old. It takes a moment for me to realize that this isn't my room. This isn't my bed.

I sit up slowly, testing the waters. So far, a bad headache is all I have, but I might just vomit soon. I look around the room some more, not recognizing it at all. It seems so impersonal. I glance around and see the door. My heart starts to race as paranoia slithers into my head.

That door better not be locked. I better not be trapped in some psycho's house. I don't even know how I got from my apartment to this strange room. Was I somehow drugged and kidnapped? How? Drugged by 7Up? Who took me?

I get out of bed, pleased to see my pyjamas, something familiar. I feel myself everywhere, checking myself. So far, I haven't been violated, from what I can tell.

I approach the door and place my hand on the doorknob, feeling that anxiety. What if it won't turn? I'll be at the mercy of some twisted bastard. What if it does open? What is out there?

I give it a turn and it opens. My heart beats rapidly with fear. I open it slightly, not making any noise and take a peek. I see only a corridor of some old place. It doesn't look old in the sense that it needs fixing. It looks old like an old style. The floor is tiled and the lights are bright, illuminating yet again an impersonal atmosphere.

However, insanely, this seems familiar to me. I have never been in a place like this, but my mind tells me I've seen this before.

I step out of the room, into the cold corridor. It indeed seems familiar, but my mind can't rationalize it. I won't even say it.

I walk down the corridor, looking at all the doors with Aquarians Stars.

Yup, I'm exactly where my mind is telling me I'm not. This can't be real. It's got to be a joke, some really sick, twisted and expensive joke. I must have been flown thousands of miles to get to this place.

As I'm slowly walking down the corridor, someone turns down and we make eye contact, freezing in place. He's tall, like taller than I expected, and his hair doesn't seem as bad now up in person as it used to be back in season three.

"Hey. How are you feeling?" He asks and my mind can't decide if he's Jared Padalecki or Sam Winchester. Suddenly, I feel like Alice who chased the fucking white rabbit and fell into the hole, hitting her head all the way down.

Only the hole isn't flat and cold like the tiled floor of the corridor.

I'm cloaked by darkness again, but it seems to be moving around me, like someone well hidden in shadow, circling around me.

"What is this?" I ask and feel this thing move around me.

"You." It whispers back to me, only it sounds just like my own voice. I turn, but all I see is darkness. Still, it moves around me.

"What are you?" I ask and I laughs softly.

"You." It says and I'm pretty sure it's mocking me.

"Quit playing games and answer me." I say and then see that light, the one that illuminates the thread spinner. As I look at it, I have no idea why I'm staring at it, yet I do. It doesn't make sense, but I seem to understand it's meaning.

"Accept." My voice says, but I didn't say anything.

I feel something moving behind me and I turn to see something that stuns my mind, but makes everything clear in my mind.


	4. Chapter 4

I open my eyes, this epiphany clear in my mind, but then I start to lose my grip on it. I try to hold onto it, but all I seem to remember is the damn spinner and… was there a voice? No, I remember talking to myself. I must be losing my mind.

Weird and stupid dreams. I dreamt of either Jared or Sam, imagine that!

I look around and my head is in a daze.

Fucking déjà vu. I saw this impersonal and empty room before. The bedside lamp lit, room dark, boring furniture and dull colours. I'm in the same stupid place, back in bed.

This better not be some _Groundhog Day_ bullshit. Or _Mystery Spot_ crap.

I get out of bed and notice at the end of the bed a pile of clothes. That's new.

I pick up the clothes, unfolding them and try not to judge. I slip out of my pyjamas and slip into these clothes that are actually a good fit, if I liked skinny jeans and plain tees that magnify my breasts. And my shoes? Sneakers. Who the Hell bought this crap? And no bra! Are you kidding me?

I go to the door, turning the doorknob and walking out of the room. I'm going to try this again. Walk pass the doors with the Aquarians Stars and don't pass out if you see Jared/Sam, whoever the Hell he is.

I turn down corridors, certain I passed the point where I fainted, and now have gotten myself lost. Every damn corridor looks the same. Fuck.

"Hello?" I ask, anticipating to hear someone answer me, but all I get is silence. I continue walking and come to a corridor that ends with what could be a room. "Hello?" I ask and hear some screeching, like chairs being pushed. I approach and then two guys stand there, looking at me like they fell through the rabbit hole themselves.

I don't go any closer and they don't move towards me.

Jensen and Jared, or Sam and Dean? Which one am I more likely to believe? Either way, I've gone insane. That's all I can think of to explain this. I'm walking in my own fabrication and it seems real because the mind is a powerful thing. In reality, I'm sitting the corner of my padded room, drooling because my medication, as powerful as it is, is not working.

Or I'm dead and this is my Heaven.

I like that idea better.

"Who are you guys, exactly?" I ask and they narrow their eyes at me, like they don't understand my question.

"You seem to know us already." Jared/Sam says, looking confused. "You said my name just before you fainted." He adds and I just stare at him, not remembering a fucking thing.

"Sam?" I ask, going with the most ridiculous answer so I can be proven wrong and put my mind at ease. This is all too real to be a figment of my imagination, or my insanity.

"Yes." He replies and I feel my legs giving out. I drop to the floor and they walk towards me, as if fearing I'm going to faint again. Sam kneels next to me and I meet his soulful brown eyes. He looks at me with concern and I look up to see Dean staring down at me. I'd like to think he's worried, but he seems… busy. Like I'm keeping him from doing something more important.

"Dean?" I ask and he looks at Sam, only then looking worried. I look at Sam too, suddenly shaking. He gives me his puppy stare, like I'm some poor helpless creature that needs his sympathy. "What the Hell happened to me? How is this possible?" I ask and Sam helps me up onto my feet, wrapping an arm around my shoulders as we walk to that room, the famous one with the table. The one where they sit to do research, drink a beer with their feet up.

Sam pulls a chair out for me and they lean up against the table on both sides of me, looking at me like I'm some alien life form.

"Why don't you explain to us what you remember." Sam says and I try to think, but I start to feel like I stepped off one of those spinning rides at an amusement park, the ones that make you throw up all the cotton candy you devoured. Only I didn't eat anything besides drinking that can of 7Up.

"I'm at the apartment with my cousin and her friend, watching _Supernatural_. I get up to get a 7Up and I go back. I go to bed. I wake up here, faint, wake up here again." I say and they stare at me like they got none of that. However, Dean glances at Sam unimpressed and Sam seems less than pleased as well. "Yeah, that's the crazy part, isn't it?" I ask and they both look at me. "You're not real. You're fictional characters in my favourite TV show on Thursday nights. You used to be on Fridays at one point, but the CW couldn't get rid of you if they wanted. We fans wouldn't let that happen, never, unlike the _Vampire Diaries_. That shit was on Fridays and got shipped off to the graveyard. That was funny." I add and they both stare at me like I'm crazy.

Yeah, I think that too.

The brothers leave my side and go to talk just behind me, talking softly like I can't hear them. At that moment, I remember something, but it seems a little crazy. Something about a spell. Sounds stupid, but I think my cousin and her friend were whispering about a spell.

"Remember? You were Jensen, I was Jared. What if she comes from that alternate universe, Dean?" Sam asks and there's silence.

"How? That sigil wasn't at the old hospital." Dean says and I think back to that episode, the one where Kripke gave himself a glorified death and where Sam and Dean couldn't act worth shit. And Misha screamed like a girl. Yeah, that sums it up pretty good.

So they think that's what happened? But it doesn't make sense. That sort of thing doesn't happen. It's impossible! Not in my world. You can't even make shit levitate and if you can, you're an illusionist like fucking Criss Angel Mindfreak.

God, I haven't heard about that guy in ages. Last time I did, I was in high school!

But what the Hell am I saying? Coming back to the impossible, I'm nuts! I was just talking to Sam and Dean.

"We can send her back. She's frightened and confused." Sam says and I feel somewhat insulted.

"Don't forget crazy." I say and listen to the silence as they realize I heard everything. They come back to stand at my sides, obviously worried.

"Is there anything else you remember?" Dean asks and I look at him, trying to remember what my cousin and her friend were whispering about. He stares at me, knowing I'm trying to think.

"I think my cousin and her friend did something. I remember hearing something about a spell. I really don't remember much." I say and the brothers exchange glances. "Have they woken up yet?" I ask and Sam shakes his head after hesitating. "You do know who I'm talking about, right?" I ask, afraid maybe I'm the only one here.

"Yes." Sam says and I relax. Good, I'm not the only nut stuck in this _French Mistake_. "What are your names?" He asks and I realize I never told them my name. Sure, lets put a name to the crazy lady.

"I'm Celeste Armstrong. My cousin is Amelia Hart and her friend is Lindsey McLean." I say and they sort of look at me with a bit more softness. "Was there a sigil where you found us? Where did you even find us anyway?" I ask and they just stare at me for a moment.

"We found you in an abandoned hospital a few hundred miles from here." Dean says and I nod, not having a clue what that means to me. "You don't remember how you got there?" He asks and I shake my head. The last thing I remember was that I was in my own bed.

But…

There's something else there, but I can't remember.

"Wait!" I say, sort of surprising both of them. "I remember your Mom hunting with Creepy Ketch behind your backs!" I say, looking at both of them, slowly realizing that I could have said that with a bit more sensitivity.

"We already know." Sam says and I stare at him, confused.

"Creepy Ketch." Dean repeats. "Sounds catchy." He adds and I glance at him, grinning at his humour.

"That was a couple of weeks ago." Sam says and I stare at him, unsure of what he means. "And you have all been passed out for a few days." He adds and I stare at him, confused.

"Then what happened?" I ask and they look at me like they'd rather not tell me. "Did you find out that the Men of Letters are total douchebags trying to train hunters with their way of killing monsters?" I ask and Dean nods, approvingly. Maybe because I used the word _douchebags._

"We gave Mick a chance. The Alpha vampire attacked. We showed Mick how to make bullets for the Colt and killed the Alpha." Sam says and I stare at him, stunned. "Since then, we're giving Mick a chance." He adds and my jaw tightens, my hands balling into fists. He stares at me, worried.

"Fuck." I snap and they both stare at me. "I missed a couple of episodes, and you actually decided to give Mick a chance! Moron!" I add, directed towards Sam, and they both relax, although they're less than pleased that I referred to their life like a TV show.

That's because it is!

Or was.


	5. Chapter 5

I eat some leftovers from the fridge, some ramen noodles with vegetables and watch the news on their little TV in the kitchen. Sam and Dean decided they'd get more information from the other two, but they hadn't woken up yet. Its not like the guys are going to wake them up. No, it just means they're going to leave me alone so I don't freak out.

As if. I think I'm taking this pretty well. Mostly because I had already freaked out and I have declared myself insane.

It's odd that I'm the only one up. I technically woke up twice and they haven't stirred. Then again, I'm not very surprised.

So I sit and think as I watch the news on the small screen. Nothing has been able to jog my memory. I don't remember jack shit. However, I know there's something locked away in my head. I just haven't found the key.

Sam walks into the kitchen and I don't even have time to read his facial expression.

"They're awake." He says and he expects me to follow him. I put down the noodles and follow him with a certain lack of energy that speaks of how much I care. He looks down at me, a little surprised, but leads me to their rooms, which are practically next door to mine.

I go into Amelia's room to see her touching everything, as if to see if it's all real. She notices I'm standing in the doorway, but then her eyes go to Sam who stands behind me.

"Sam?" She asks and in that moment, looking at the little smile on her face and the glimmer of joy in her eyes, I know something is terribly wrong.

And she's the cause of it.

"Is this really the bunker?" She asks.

"Yes." Sam replies. "What do you remember?" He asks, disregarding her little fangirl moment that's about to explode into the atomic bomb of fangirling when she sees Dean. Poor Dean.

"Why?" She asks and I narrow my eyes at her.

"We were found in an abandoned hospital and we've been out cold for nearly a week." I say and she looks at me, seriously, as if she is seeing me for the first time in her entire life.

"Celeste?" She asks, scrunching up her face a little. I turn my stare into a glare.

"Who did you think I was? The fucking ghost of Christmas Past? The illusion of I-did-something-stupid-and-my-cousin-isn't-supposed-to-be-here-because-my-friend-and-I-were-exclusively-going-into- _Supernatural_ -because-we're-idiots?" I ask and hear nothing but silence as Amelia stares at me. Hell, I think Sam is staring at me too. Yup, I knew it. She seemed so surprised to see me because I'm not suppose to be here.

That pisses me off. Again, for the umpteenth time, I'm excluded.

"What?" She asks me, as if I spoke too fast.

"What did you and your genius sidekick do?" I ask and she snorts at me, turning back to her clothes on the foot of her bed.

"Nothing." She replies and I know that's bullshit.

"What spell did you mindlessly perform for this?" I ask and she stops, just staring at her clothes. By that alone, I know she doesn't remember a fucking thing. "Do you remember any dreams you had?" I ask and she looks at me oddly.

"What the Hell are you talking about?" She asks me and I want to bang my head against a wall. She's useless. Yet she knows she has succeed her goal.

I brush pass Sam, frustrated, and go back to the kitchen.

I had asked Dean if I could look through their books, getting away before both girls see him and freak out. I'm looking through old books on spells, hoping for something that jogs my memory when I hear them shriek. Yup, they see Dean. Poor bastard.

Poor Sam. No one shrieked when they saw him. I fucking fainted, so that's about all he got.

I turn many pages, not recognizing anything. From studying Wicca, I know the Wheel of the Year, the Moon phases, the best time for certain spells, types of spells (candle magic, rune magic, crystals) and divinations, deities and tools. These spells? Unlike anything I've seen. Their purposes are anything but mundane and their ingredients anything but ordinary. I don't even known half of the things these spells need.

I'm going from inviting friendship into my life to I'm luring a deity into a box to be used as my sock puppet. What the Hell? This is entirely a different type of magic and I don't think I can ever learn it, or if I want to.

I flip through many books, losing track of time. My eyes begin to burn and I glance around the room. I haven't even made a dent. I have to do more than just take a break. I have to call it quits today.

I place the book back on the shelf, but leave it stick out further than the rest, so that I can find my place again tomorrow. However, someone can push that book back and I'd be lost. I glance around the room and see some knives on display. That'll work. I take one of the knives and stick it in between the books, next to the one I had just looked through.

Now I just have to tell Sam and Dean why one of their knives is in between some books so they don't pull it out.

I walk into the room with that infamous table. All of them are there and they all seem frustrated. Amelia and Lindsey are holding their heads while the brothers look at me like they've reached a dead end.

"This looks like fun." I say sarcastically and Lindsey looks at me, surprised. "Don't tell me you had no idea I was here. Man, didn't I ruin your party." I say and she looks away. "Do you remember the spell?" I ask and she remains silent. Sam and Dean look at them and I sigh. "Any dreams?" I ask and Sam looks at me, a little suspicious.

Without any answers, I'm about to walk, but remember the knife I stuck in between the books. I turn to the table, catching Sam's attention.

"If you see a knife in the bookshelf in your library, please don't take it out or I'll lose my place. I can't keep looking through the books; my eyes are gonna burn out of my skull." I say and leave after both brothers give me a nod. Well Sam did, Dean gave me a curt nod.

I retreat to my room, closing the door behind me as I look at the walls. I take a deep breath and exhale. I call this my room, but it's not mine. Nothing here is mine. The only thing that's mine is my body ad even that feels strange to me. I'm trying to keep my calm, but I don't know why. I should be freaking out. I should be screaming, pounding the walls, crying and threatening the world.

I should be wanting to go back home, to my real world.

Yet, I act like being in my favourite TV show is just an hour's drive from my apartment.

There is no going back so easily.

And I'm calm.

I must be insane.


	6. Chapter 6

I rested my eyes, on the pillow, buried under the blankets in the room that isn't mine, but Sam and Dean let me use. My eyes were so sore from reading, but I ended up falling asleep.

My dream began dark. As I stand there, shrouded in darkness, it all seems familiar. This is what I had forgotten. I can remember it now. And then, a light shines…

At that moment, a light does shine on a spinner, spinning thread. It's always the same. It's bizarre to me, yet I know it, my hands want to badly to hold that thread. As I stare at it, I seem to know exactly how to use it.

It's a treadle wheel. It's powered by the foot. It turns the spinner, turns the drive wheel with a crankshaft and a connecting rod. It doesn't have the spindle, but a flyer-and-bobbin which twists the yarn and winds into a spool.

My hands crave to feel the thread, my feet inch closer, wanting to power the treadle wheel.

"Go for it." Says my voice, but I know those words did not come from my lips. "Accept it." I add, although it still doesn't come from my lips.

"Why?" I ask, staring at the wheel as I know I won't see what's moving around me.

"Touch it and see." I hear my voice come over my should, this thing just behind me. I can feel it's breath by my ear. It doesn't move away, like it wants to watch me approach the wheel. What if I don't? Will it push me towards it?

Then it strikes me, what I have truly forgotten! I saw it's face last time, but I forgot it in an instance when I woke up. I still don't remember, but maybe I can see it again.

I turn away from the wheel to see it's face, but it moves too quickly into the shadows.

"In time." I hear my voice coming from the darkness. I don't know what it means, but I feel some pressure against me, pushing me away.

I snap my eyes open, looking around the room that's not mine. I stubbornly try to hold onto my memory of my dream. I know it's dark and something shines under a light. I also know I hear someone talk.

As much as I try to hold onto the details, some slip from my mind. I sit up in bed, pushing away the blankets with frustration as I can't remember more. I slip out of bed and fix my clothes so it doesn't look like I slept in them. Not that anyone would judge me.

I walk out of my room, unsure of how long I've been asleep. I'm unsure of everything.

My feet begin carrying me down the corridor without any purpose. Apparently, I'm just walking around to… clear my head? To relax? To waste time?

I walk into another corridor, mindlessly I have to admit. On one of the walls, there's a mirror. I go straight to it and look at myself. I see my chestnut brown shoulder length hair, my green eyes, my small nose and the volume of my lips. I see my face and yet I can't imagine this being me. It sounds strange, even to me.

"Accept." I say, oddly saying a word that just popped into my head. But at that second, it all hits me and I feel my body dropping to the floor as I return to that darkness.

I stand in that darkness and stare at the treadle wheel, like I was daydreaming and focused. I'm closer to this thing than I was last time. I can feel the yarn in my hands, the wood beneath my feet as I make it spin.

Suddenly, I feel this thing move around me again and I don't have to see it's face to know…

That it's me.

That's what I forgot. The first time I saw its face, I saw my own, but my hair was longer, done up in an old style, my face aged a bit more, like I was ten years older, maybe in my mid-thirties.

"Please explain this to me." I say, wanting to reach out and touch the treadle, but something holds me back. I don't know if it's uncertainty.

"I wouldn't have to if you'd just accept." My voice says from behind me. I don't know what this thing is, but it could be appearing as me to fool me.

"Accept what?" I ask and then I feel it leaving me to be alone with the treadle wheel. Somehow I know I won't get any answers until I touch the spinner. I want to, like a piece of jewelry that shines and grabs my attention because I can picture it on me, I want to feel the yarn. I've never done anything like this, but yet I can't resist wanting to spin the yarn for…

I don't know what for.

I reach out to touch it, but it all fades quite harshly as I open my eyes and see brown eyes staring into mine with concern. I feel arms that lift me up and up, off the floor to stand on my feet. Sam stands tall in front of me now, still with his hands on my arms as he stares into me.

"Are you alright?" He asks me, searching my eyes for anything that my words can't tell him.

"Yes. I must have fainted again." I say and he awaits for me today more, but I'm not sure I can.

"What happened?" He asks, wanting to know why I fainted, but I can't tell him before I know for sure myself.

"I don't think I ate enough." I say and he walks with me to the kitchen. "If it's okay, I'd like to eat in the library so I can continue researching." I add and he looks at me suspiciously.

"For what?" He asks, his stare intense.

"The spell. I know they used a spell. I just don't know what it is." I say and he continues to look at me. I glance at him, frowning. "What?" I ask.

"You seem to remember more than Amelia and Lindsey. All they know is they are exactly where they want to be." Sam replies and I stare, not knowing why that is. "You seem to be more affected by whatever happened at the old hospital." He adds and I knit my eyebrows out of confusion. Somehow, I know it's not the old hospital that plagues me with dreams.

It's something else. Not a place but a thing.

I should be researching whatever it is that surrounds me in my dreams, but I'm oddly driven to find this spell in those books.


	7. Chapter 7

I eat the sandwich and salad that Sam ordered for me. He went out and got food for everyone. I'm able to eat in the library while Amelia and Lindsey are supposedly being drilled by Sam and Dean, softly of course.

I look through books, slowly eating, just seeing spells after spells of things I can't understand. There are also books on creatures and things, but those I don't need. I don't want to know what kind of monsters are out there. I don't want to start being terrified of the world I'm in now. I might just lose my calm and really become as insane as I somewhat jokingly claim myself to be.

Plus, I'm not as worried about this thing that wears my face as much as I am about this spell that my cousin and her friend foolishly cast.

And, if those two can't remember with prompting, maybe the spell will make them remember. Once I find it, if I do, it might jog their memory enough to explain what had happened, how we went from _Supernatural_ -is-just-a-TV-show to Holy-shit- _Supernatural_ -is-as-real-as-I'm-standing-in-the-fucking-Men-of-Letters'-bunker! The spell did this, but how? What did they do?

I need to find the spell to know. Then, maybe I can go back to the apartment. My life there wasn't great, but at least I was alive. In this world, I'm likely to die. No female character lives for long.

I finish my food and feel my eyes burning again. I must have been looking through these books for hours. I can't tell really how many books I've looked through, as I always put them back on the shelf as to not disorganized the place, out of respect.

I put back the book that I have just finished, rubbing my eyes. I can't look at another one. As I close my eyes, I can see a flash of that treadle wheel. I open my eyes and look around the room, expecting to see the treadle wheel in the room with me. It's nowhere, but its presence is strong in my mind.

I close my eyes again and it's there. I can reach out to it.

And I do.

I feel the roughness of the wooden wheel as I place my fingers on it.

At that moment, I stumble back, snapping my eyes open, drawing in breath like I'm drowning, feeling this pressure against me like I've been hit by a truck. It's overwhelming and I brace myself against the chair, drawing in more oxygen as my head begins to spin.

A loud smacking sound that simultaneously stops with whatever the fuck it is that I'm feeling.

I stand and breathe, expecting pain, but there's none.

I turn and see behind me a book opened, but face down. I don't think much of it as I approach it, bend and pick it up. As I stand, I look upon the pages and my legs nearly give out from under me.

 _A Spell to Open a Portal to Other Worlds._

 _A special candle chosen for this spell must be placed on a pentacle on the night of a New Moon, symbolizing a new fate. Surrounding the chosen candle should be four black candles, the colour of renewal and change._

 _The chosen candle, on the pentacle, is in the centre of your altar with the black candles each in a corner._

 _Raise your lighter up to the sky full of stars and say:_

 _"I wish I may, I wish I might, have the wish I wish this night._

 _For change of fate this night I ask, and by the flame, I ask it last._

 _Seven brightest stars in the sky, light the flames hold high."_

 _Light the centre candle first, then the four black candles, letting them burn out as you go amongst your business. When the candles burn themselves out, some aspects of your life will be stronger as others will be weaker._

I read over the spell a few times, shocked. Amelia and Lindsey have cast this spell, somehow dragged me into it and…

I don't understand the connection with the treadle wheel.

Still with the book in my hands, opened at this very spell, I walk out to where Sam and Dean are talking with Amelia and Lindsey. I can hear the girls asking them to stop. They don't remember anymore than they did earlier. I walk in, suddenly feeling angry and drop the book on the table, startling all four of them.

"Maybe this will ring a bell." I say and give the book a push, sliding it down to Amelia. Both her and Lindsey just stare at it, as if afraid the book will shut on their fingers like the "Evil Dead" book, a monstrous thing. Eventually, they do pull it towards them, curious.

I watch them stare at the spell, reading it, glancing at each other.

"It… it sounds like the spell." Amelia begins, her voice sounding a little confused.

"No, it was called _Change of Fate_." Lindsey corrects, convinced this is not the spell they used.

"But this is what we did, Lind. I remember now. The black candles, letting them burn out." Amelia adds and Lindsey looks at the book, this odd paleness on her face now.

Sam and Dean get up and look over their shoulders now, frowning down at the spell.

"You opened a portal." Dean says, but the girls shake their heads, looking down at the book, confused. "That's not the spell you used?" Dean asks. It's clear to him that it is, but the girls are adamant about it. Their spell was entitled differently.

"Did you draw a sigil anywhere?" Sam asks, but they shake their heads.

"We didn't find one at the hospital." Dean says, his voice nearly a whisper to Sam. "There isn't one in this spell." He adds.

"But something did happen at the hospital." Sam says, just as relentless to get to the bottom of this problem.

"Can I speak to them alone?" I ask and both brothers look at me, somewhat surprised. "Please?" I add, but my tone is a bit more forceful than I intended. Or maybe that's how I intended it.

Sam and Dean leave and I wait until I'm sure they're out of hearing range.

"Are you having dreams of a treadle wheel?" I ask and they both tear their gaze off the book and look at me, keeping that expression of confusion.

"What?" Amelia asks.

"Do you have dreams of a spinning wheel of thread?" I ask and they stare at me like I'm insane. Oh, this is fucking annoying.

"No." They both say, now their voices suggest they think I'm crazy.

In that moment, I feel this shrouding sensation, like how the thing moved in the shadows from my dreams, surrounding me. I see the treadle wheel in my mind and I hear the echo of the title of Lindsey's spell. A strange idea begins to form in my head, too strange for me to put into words.

"Do you dream of measuring thread?" I ask and watch as they seem to look down at the table, like they're thinking. "Do you dream of cutting thread?" I ask and they seem to burn holes into the table as they stare at it, their minds fogged with the task of remembering.

"No." Lindsey says softly, as if entranced.

"No." Amelia also says, slowly looking at me, confused. As I look into her eyes, I feel like she's not being honest with me.

"No dreams of darkness that move around you? No voice that speaks to you?" I ask and they both look at me, their eyes clouded, but then there's a hardness.

"What is wrong with you?" Amelia asks and they both brush off whatever it is they were beginning to remember.

"I'm perfectly fine." I say, feeling the truth of my words.

"You seem different." Lindsey says and they both stare at me oddly.

"You're acting weird." Amelia says and I grin at her.

"Says the two that had cast a spell to open a portal to another world, not intending me to be a part of it. And yet, here we are." I say and they open their mouths, but nothing comes out as they look at my widening grin. "And I'm acting weird." I conclude and walk away.

"We didn't open a portal." Lindsey says and I laugh.

"No, just changed Fate." I mockingly reply, seeing a strange hint of truth in my words.

I'm beginning to think that the treadle wheel, the spell of fate they think they have cast, this weird thing that clings to me is part of something huge. I'm beginning to think that I know what is wrong with me.

If I'm still Celeste Armstrong.


	8. Chapter 8

I walk past the kitchen and both brothers call out to me.

"Hey." Sam says. "How are they?" He asks and I backtrack, entering the kitchen with a slight smile. Thoughtful Sam.

"They don't know because they don't want to make the attempt to remember." I say and both look at me with a bit of frustration that I know isn't for me.

"They have no intention of remembering?" Dean asks and I nod. "Who does that?" He asks and I grin.

"Fangirls that want to stay here." I reply and Sam looks at me, as if he too thinks I'm acting weird. "This spell isn't the same as the one that sent you into the world where you were Jensen and Jared, the actors." I say and they stare at me, agreeing, but remembering how weird that had been for them.

It was hilarious.

"They can just do the same spell again, right?" Dean asks Sam, but his brother doesn't seem certain.

"We need to know what else they did." Sam replies. "Celeste wasn't supposed to be here, they said so, yet she's here." He adds, looking at me and I smile innocently, which unsettles him a little.

"Maybe because she was in the apartment too." Dean says. "So, if they do the spell out of the bunker, we should be fine." He adds and Sam looks at him with a slight frown, and then he looks back at me.

"Do you want me to stay while you talk about me some more?" I ask, giving him a little smile that might even be a little flirtatious. He seems a little nervous.

"I wasn't… um, if you want to stay… you can leave if you want. The kitchen, I mean. Or not." He replies, definitely a little nervous. "Sorry." He adds and I walk out with a smile on my lips.

That was fun.

I return to the corridor with the mirror and stare at my reflection. Oddly, I do seem a little bit different than the last time I looked at my reflection. It's not that I look different, it's my expressions, like I'm more confident, less frightened.

And my eyes…

That's the only thing that seems different.

"Accept." I swear I can hear that so clearly, but I know it's just in my head. Not like hearing voices, but an echo of a thought. I heard it in my dreams and now, I think I know what clings to me.

"Are you Clotho, the Spinner?" I ask my reflection, sort of expecting to see something in the mirror. The only thing I see is a sharper expression in my eyes. It should startle me, but it seems gratifying to me.

I wait and nothing happens. I don't get my answer.

But I remember being told to accept, that through acceptance it would be clearer.

Well, I don't know exactly what that entails, but I'm sure that's the last piece of the puzzle.

I return to my room and lay on my bed, looking up at the ceiling. Earlier, Sam was saying that something had to have happened at the old hospital, but I don't remember anything there. I know I was in my real room at the apartment and…

Feeling sick, badly sick. I felt excruciating things and then I woke up here after losing consciousness.

It seems I don't remember everything because I haven't yet accepted what is it I'm to accept.

So why do I hesitate?

I close my eyes and see the treadle spinner and then I see that face. It's me, but it's different. I want to call her Clotho, but I know she won't say anything, besides "Accept", until I actually do accept. I take a deep breathe.

"I accept." I say in my mind and immediately open my eyes, feeling my body twist and turn, jerking upward and falling back onto my bed. It feels like I'm getting run over. I know it's crazy to use inexperienced things as an analogy, especially when the most painful thing I ever felt, besides throbbing headaches, was tripping down the stairs, feeling my heart jump out, but this is worst than tripping.

This rocks my entire body, making me nearly throw up right now.

Then I lose consciousness and plunder into the darkness, somehow standing perfectly still in the same spot, only this time, I'm standing so close to the treadle wheel that I can sit and work the yarn.

"Here you are, at last." Says the voice that is mine, but isn't me.

"Will you finally inform me of everything?" I ask and she lets out a small laugh.

"Not everything or you'll really lose your mind." She replies and stands on the other side of the treadle wheel, looking at it as I do, like we crave to feel the yarn in our hands.

"Are you Clotho, the Spinner, one of the Fates?" I ask and she meets my eyes and hers seem old. Not like old age, just ancient, and yet it's a reflection of my own eyes.

"She was the first and most famous to have me." She replies and I frown in confusion. "You think me to be a spirit? I'm an essence." She adds and I continue to frown, thinking of the sequel to _Thor_ where his girlfriend finds the Aether and becomes its vessel. "Yes, much like Jane in _Thor_." She adds and I tilt my head at her. "I'm as much a part of you now as I was of Clotho then. I know you. I am you." She says and I laugh.

"I'm having a conversation with myself." I blurt and she smiles at me.

"Fun, isn't it?" She asks and I grin because I expected her to shame me, but that didn't fucking happen at all! This is really fun.

"Alright, so what do I do? Spin the yarn?" I ask and she grins at me.

"You'll appreciate the irony." She says and continues. "To be a Fate, you simply have to will your imagination to become reality through power." She adds and I smirk.

"That's hilarious." I reply and she nods, but then her grins falters. "So, what happened?" I ask, knowing something tragic is about to be explained.

"First you must understand that humans always had Free Will, but they also had us. Fate. Without us, they create their own Fate through Free Will, but Fate is needed. The Greeks always believed we were our own bosses, that no one told us what to do. Some believed Zeus had control of us. The truth is, we worked as God instructed us. We each had a role. Atropos took this seriously. Everything had to be perfect. We had everything planned for the apocalypse and with Castiel and the Winchesters, that changed. Lachesis and Clotho, or should I say myself to clear the confusion, continued our work, but Atropos had to finish our original task." She says and her old eyes seem sad. "We transformed our yarn into a book and she took that with her. After fixing Balthazar's game of erasing the Titanic, she was never heard of again. And neither was the book." She says and I'm having a hard time understanding. Things aren't adding up. "Those that possessed us kept dying. We were too much. They weren't strong enough, except Atropos' body. When her body died, destroyed along with the book, we all gathered in one location, the old hospital, and we waited. We actually caused all the deaths there because a genius killed Death and his reapers were busy running around like headless chickens." She adds and I'm still not getting it. I know what she's saying, but I don't get how powerful beings can be so… vulnerable.

"You're Goddesses. You're indestructible. You're super strong, super smart. And you're bodies die? Clear this up for me." I add and she looks at me with some sympathy.

"The firsts, Clotho, Lachesis and Atropos were very strong. We Goddesses of Fate, are merely essences, like Nyx is the Night, Eos is the Dawn." She says and I sigh, knowing I can sum this up in one word.

"Personification." I say and she nods.

"Yes. There have never been bodies like those three, until you, Lindsey and Amelia." She replies and I narrow my eyes at her, curious. "You think the spell was a coincidence? We have been trapped in this dimension while our next true bodies were in another. We pulled some strings and someone whispered the spell into Lindsey's ear. It would have been yours, but your will is too strong." She says and I can't help but grin. Well said.

"Who was that someone?" I ask and she grins at me like it's her secret. "You're me, remember? Your secret is my secret." I add and she smiles.

"A Eudaemon, a kind of spirit that we Fates sometimes used to speak with heroes." She says and I grin, feeling like a V.I.P.

"Alright, so you got us to this world, to the old hospital." I say and she smiles at me, sort of like a mother would. My mother was never one of those Hollywood Moms, so it's sort of nice for a change.

"You can see without me." She says and then I relive the night where I slipped into another dimension. All that excruciating pain was my body going from one world to the next, being dropped into the old hospital. Clotho, as I'm going to call the essence, like it or not, swarmed into me and then I hit the ground.

The essences of the Fates kind of soaked into us like water into a sponge as we fell into the world of _Supernatural_.

We're the Fallen Fates.


	9. Chapter 9

I open my eyes, feeling somewhat rejuvenated. I didn't sleep. No, it was better. I accepted the essence of the Fate that I will call Clotho and we had conversed. It's all clear now.

I'm free.

I don't think I'm free in the sense that I can go back to my dimension, but I'm free of worry. I'm a Fate, why do I care about going back home? What could harm me, besides specific God-killing weapons and Archangels such as Lucifer?

And the worry creeps back in.

That is something to worry about.

However, at the moment, I'm pretty much a Goddess, able to twist the Fate of the world and I'm going to need some practice. The tool of the Fates was destroyed, although I really liked the idea of writing it in a book. It sounds like a story I had written years ago, to be honest. A girl discovers a book and upon writing in it, things become reality.

Nah, the storyline is overrated. Everyone does a story like that.

Now all I have to do is will my imagination? What do I do? If I want Lucifer to die, can I just will that to happen? My essence doesn't come with a manual of instructions and it's a little overwhelming.

But, maybe Amelia and Lindsey have made some progress. Maybe they have accepted Lachesis and Atropos and together, we can resume the role of the Fates.

I walk out to the room where Sam and Dean usually sit for everything and find Amelia and Lindsey.

"Just the two I had wanted to see." I say and they both look at me with concern. "What? Did Sam or Dean or both die again?" I ask jokingly, but they continue to stare at me, worried.

"What's going on with you?" Amelia asks and usually her tone is harsh, suggesting I'm abnormal, but this is genuine.

"I'm fine." I say and she shakes her head at me with a frown.

"You're anything but fine. You were out cold for twenty-four hours. Sam and Dean tried to wake you up before they left on a hunt." She says and I look at Lindsey who's eyes are the same. I really was out that long, both are telling the truth. Somehow, I'm at a lost for words.

But not for long, of course.

"Nothing new with you two?" I ask and they frown at me.

"Don't try to change the subject." Amelia snaps.

"I'm not. I've been asking you if you've been having dreams, if you remember anything. You say no. Now I will ask you if the names Lachesis and Atropos mean anything to you." I say and they continue to stare at me, oddly.

"The Greek Fates?" Amelia says and I smile.

"No, the other Moirai." I reply sarcastically. "There are only the Greek Goddesses of Fate named Clotho, Lachesis and Atropos." I add, showing a bit of impatience. "I prefer the Greek names. The Roman names are a little frightening, and not in a good way; Nona, Decima and Morta. Mind you, Morta sounds cool. Lucky Atropos." I ramble on while they continue to stare at me as if I've lost my mind.

"Did you hit your head somehow?" Lindsey asks me and I glare at them, not believing that they act like unaffected mortals. Those untapped essences aren't stirring? I'm the only one that has become a Fate?

"Nothing has changed?" I ask and they exchange glances, then look at me, worried. "What is wrong with you? Do you not feel what lies within you?" I ask and their stares on me reveal they know nothing. Did the essences abandon them? Clotho said we are their true bodies. This doesn't make sense?

I want to throw a temper tantrum just to see if that will awaken the essences within them. However, I know I can't do that yet. I have to focus on myself and then figure out what to do about them.

"I think I'm going to call Dean." Amelia says to Lindsey and I frown at them. Are they really tattle-tailing on me? What the Hell is Dean going to do miles away? So I'm a little crazy, so what! I'm a Fate! Good luck fixing that.

So what does a young woman who just became a Fate do to pass the time?

Leave the bunker and study people.

No joke. As I walk away from the Men of Letters' bunker, through the nearest town, I watch people to see their lives. It's not very hard. It's like looking through the TV guide, saying "I want to watch that" and pressing the _enter_ button. I will it and then I see their lives like a somewhat blurred hologram that only I can see.

Oh, there's an interesting character. This middle-aged guy looks at all the young girls. He likes watching lesbian porn on the internet. It turns him on. He hasn't had sex since he was seventeen and the girl told him he was horrible and sloppy. Ever since then, he hasn't been with another woman. Watching lesbian porn, he considered it his study guide, to be a better lover, but then lacked the confidence to put into practice what he learnt.

It wouldn't have helped him anyway.

He's just a creep now, staring at young women and fantasizing about watching them have sex.

He's going to have a heart attack due to all those fatty foods he eats, eating away his feelings. That and jerking off, exhausting himself and, grotesquely, getting too excited. I didn't even think heart attack due to jerking off was possible.

But it will be. In five months.

I glance at other people and see this woman come out of a store, rudely pushing people out of her way. She wears this big sun hat and high heels, her nose up in the air. The people bitch at her, but she keeps walking off to this mustang driven by her magazine model boyfriend. Seriously, he's a model.

Well, she's treated everyone badly. She was a total bitch her whole life because her parents taught her it was okay. She hurt a lot of people and it seems like her life is going to be comfortable.

 _Not only can you see their lives and their futures, you can change it. You simply will it and it becomes reality. Death might be gone, but you said it best. We are personifications of things that cannot be killed. Try it, Celeste._

Well, lets turn that smile upside down for a while, I think to myself after Clotho spoke to me. Let her and her boyfriend get into a car accident, her getting the worst of it. She'll shatter some bones, have to go for therapy and learn that there is more in life than money and status.

As I will it, so let it be.

Oh, this is scrumptious. I should feel horrible that I'm twisting someone's life. I always believed in not wishing others any harm, but here I am, inflicting harm to come.

But, I'm a Fate. It's what I do.

So, onto the next person.

Oh, the little girl lost her pet cat. She thinks it ran away, but it got run over.

 _Try imagining her cat, pulling it out of the depths of death. We can twist time and death as we will it._

Um, well, lets put a smile on that sad little face. No _Pet Cemetery_ bullshit, just a little reversal. Fates are unaffected by fucking with time… and neither are the things we affect in time. Her cat will be fine and no, the poor animal won't get run over a second time, but it will need some TLC to erase the trauma of dying so horribly thanks to some asshole that couldn't be more careful.

Well, that asshole's gonna kill over.

Right about… now.

Perfect!

 _Well done, Celeste. You will do fine._

Now this is the _Game of Life_! Fucking good shit.

 **Author's note:** The part in the beginning of this chapter where Celeste says she might have written about a book of Fate is true. Years ago, as a kid, I wrote a story like that as I'm sure most did. My original Fallen Fates were two sisters and their friend who buy an old brown leather journal to write their Supernatural fanfiction, only to have it become reality, becoming their original characters with Sam, Dean and Castiel. This revamped version takes place in season 12, very different from the original. I hope you're enjoying it so far because as meaningful as the original had been to me, I'm having lots of fun with this version.


	10. Chapter 10

I get back to the bunker a couple of hours later after having borrowed some clothes and jewelry from a few stores. No one suspected a thing. I guess there's some tricks up my sleeve for that. The black leather sleeve of my new jacket with stylish studs and buckles. Oh, I look so badass.

I walk down into the bunker, the door foolishly unlocked, and I see Amelia and Lindsey looking at me with… unimpressed expressions? Wow, that's a first.

"She's here." Amelia says into her phone, clearly on speaker.

"Pass her the phone." Says Dean's hunky voice. I drop my bags and take the phone with a smile, turning off the speaker.

"Hiya Dean!" I say and walk with a bounce in my step to pick up my bags and to bring them to my room, ignoring the girls. "It's so lonely here without you and Sam." I add and listen to his silence.

"Celeste?" I hear Sam and roll my eyes as Dean had put the phone on speaker too. Figures.

"Sam." I say softly, like a damsel missing her lover. "I see you're lonely too." I add, a little mockingly.

"Amelia called us." Dean says and I let out a little laugh.

"You don't say! I have a feeling she rattled on me." I say and listen to their hesitation.

"You're not yourself." Sam says and I walk into my room, closing the door behind me, dropping my bags onto the floor. "We're worried." He adds and I awe.

"Ah, so sweet of you. Never would expect that of Dean, unless he wanted something." I reply and listen to their silence. I can so see them exchanging glances, driving to a location, dressed as Feds. Um, werewolves. Oh, they're going to meet Claire Novak. Interesting.

Except she becomes a werewolf. I'll have to get back to that.

"I'd love to stay and chat, but we're both busy. Stay beautiful boys and keep your eye on that other bartender." I say and hang up, unable to keep that little detail to myself. If they're worried, than I can't help that, but I can give them little hints that I've become more than who I used to be.

I've become my Destiny.

But as I hang up, I realize the switch has turned off. I can't see Claire Novak or that bartender. I can't see the Fate of others if the connection is not to me in that moment.

I was on the phone with the Winchesters, who will meet Claire and they'll meet other people, especially the guy that makes Claire a werewolf. As long as my connection with any of them is there, I can see all the webs of connections. Once ending the phone call, it cut my connection with the Winchesters, all connections were lost.

Interesting.

I press the _call back_ button and listen to the ringing.

"Celeste?" Sam asks and I see all the connections again.

"Yeah, I forgot to tell you that you're awesome." I say, seeing more. I see the Winchesters putting Claire in Mick's care, as he tells them of the cure for werewolves, but they never tested on a person, as it wasn't a success. They do the cure and it works.

But then something else about Mick. The connection weakens because I'm spreading out too much. I'd have to go straight to the source to see what happens to Mick.

I need Mick.

"Thanks?" Sam asks and I grin.

"Anytime." I say and hang up again, glad to have made my little discovery.

It's like plugging electrical cords into one another to create several connections. The more you connect, the weaker your power at the end of all those electrical cords.

It's the same thing with talking to the Winchesters, seeing Claire in their future, and the bartender in her future and Mick in her future and trying to see his future. My connection was too weak.

But where the Hell am I suppose to find Mick?

I have to remind myself to have a bit of patience.

I set everything up in my room, making it _my_ room. I've got some mirrors for my walls, some necklaces to hang on the wall, so I can take them off, wear them and put them back. My clothes are in the dresser, like a fucking bra, and some _Supernatural_ books are nicely stacked on the dresser along with a laptop, iPhone and iPod. Candles and spellbooks too, as I kinda want to continue my Wicca studies.

Oh, and feminine products. A lady needs that shit.

Um, I wonder what a PMSing Fate will be like. I pity the bastard that pisses me off.

I glance in the mirrors and see Clotho, that slightly older face of mine.

"You're figuring it out." She says and I smile. She's obviously referring to my powers, not decorating my room. Or maybe it's both.

"Easy peasy." I reply with a small wink.

"Keep up the good work." She says, but then I think of Amelia and Lindsey, or Atropos and Lachesis. Clotho doesn't fade from the mirrors, knowing exactly what's going through my head. "Their essences lie within your cousin and her friend. They wait to be awakened." She adds and we stare at each other, our silent conversation. "You must be insane if you think that's a good idea." She concludes.

"I can do it, right? I'm strong." I say and Clotho grins at me.

"It has never been done, but if it's your will, let it be." She says and I grin.

Amelia and Lindsey sleep a lot. I keep quiet and watch them, discreetly, of course. They're still worried about me, but they think this being quiet is more normal of me. If they think so, good.

They take many little naps, eat, keep busy and nap again. As I watch them, I see they're fighting something. You know when someone is fighting a cold and they look like shit? That's starting to be them.

They must be not only fighting the essences, but denying them like they did me when I questioned them. They played stupid, but deep down they knew I was hammering the nail right on the head.

So while they sleep, I check on them. I can feel the essences, but it's like they're locked in a vault. I'm going to have to shake them up a little in order to break that vault.

The fun begins.

I put a plan into motion. I'll start a little subtle, then drop a few words or things. Then, I'll turn it up a notch, purposefully bringing us to the topic of Fate. I'll talk of the Moirai, of the _Supernatural_ episode with Atropos and the book. The last straw will be using my powers in front of them to shock them.

Amelia and Lindsey are still asleep, but when they wake up, they'll find yarn. Incredible how that just popped up, with measuring tools and fancy scissors. If that doesn't get them to jumpstart into acknowledging the essences, then I've got more ideas.

I wait for them to wake up as I drink a cup of coffee at the table, reading books about Greek Mythology and what the Men of Letters' have on Greeks. There are plenty of books on mythology, but the Men of Letters had very little information on deities or monsters of mythology. It's like they still believed them to be stories.

Yeah, right.

I hear some footsteps and ignore it. I know it's Amelia. She walks in and pulls a chair, sitting down across from me.

"I found these scissors in my room." She says and I look at her, not seeing the scissors, but seeing this confusion on her face. "Did you put them there?" She asks and I play stupid.

"No. What do they look like?" I ask, looking very intrigued by these mysterious scissors.

"Silver with intricate designs. Really pretty, but I don't remember ever seeing them before." She replies and I mock a confused frown.

"How odd." I say and she nods, then looks at my book.

"You on that again?" She asks and I frown in confusion, mocked once again. "Are you Athena today?" She asks, mocking me, so I do the mature thing and stick my tongue out at her. "Well, at least you're not talking crazy." She concludes and I try not to grin.

No, not yet.


	11. Chapter 11

Lindsey got up shortly after Amelia and both thought it was weird that they got things that mysteriously appeared in their rooms. They got suspicious, accused me, until a spindle mysteriously appeared in my room too.

Yeah, they were easily confused.

So, standing in the corridor with these items, as well as some yarn, I decide to give them a little push in the right direction. And yes, it's crazy talk time.

"Hey, these are all things related to the Moirai." I say and Amelia sighs _and_ rolls her eyes.

"Not this again." She mumbles and Lindsey just looks at me somewhat stunned, blankly I might add.

"Notice how the first letters of our names are the same?" I ask and they seem to freeze, giving it some thought. "Celeste, Clotho. Amelia, Atropos. Lindsey, Lachesis." I add and they slowly exchange glances at each other, but Lindsey gives a curt shake, trying to convince Amelia that it's just coincidence. "That can't be a coincidence. Opening a portal to _Supernatural_ and having these appear… and I'm labeled crazy? Maybe I'm right and you're just scared to admit it." I conclude and they both look at me, adamant about this being just a coincidence.

"You are crazy!" Amelia says, her eyes wide at me, which is weird. She's never done that.

"Or maybe we are all slipping into madness." I say calmly and they stare at me blankly. "Ask yourselves, what is it you remember from our last night in our world? What is it you remember from your first moment in this world? The challenge will be to be honest with yourself." I say and leave them alone.

I'll check up on them later.

I watch them discreetly and wiggle my toes with excitement when I hear them whispering about their dreams. They are finally admitting that they've both had bizarre dreams of talking to themselves. Of course, their conversations weren't as fun as mine. And I discover that I was right, they were denying the essences of the Fates.

If they should accept the essences, then that'll be interesting. However, I believe they won't accept them, so that means my plan can still be put into motion. But one thing is for sure, Amelia and Lindsey are going to hate me. It means forcing them to acknowledge the Fates so I can have access to the essences of Atropos and Lachesis.

My grand plan is to become all three Fates. A way to explain it is to compare to Hecate, the Goddess of witchcraft and crossroads. She has a triple aspect; sky, sea and underworld. The maiden, mother and crone. So if it works out, I'll have sort of the same aspect: spinner, measurer and cutter.

Although, it's not as catchy.

Amelia and Lindsey compare dreams and fall silent as they realize nothing is a coincidence. They have similar dreams and they're beginning to think I'm not so crazy after all.

They even glance over at me, as if wondering if they can make sense of this without being dragged into my madness. Oh, they're getting dragged.

Amelia and Lindsey join me in the library and I ignore them, then look up surprised, making it look good.

"Hey, what's up?" I ask and they looked defeated and troubled. Perfect!

"Can we talk?" Amelia asks and I make it look like I have no idea why. They sit down across from me and I close my book. They stay silent for a moment, hesitating. "We talked about our dreams, noticing that they're similar." She adds and I lean forward, interested.

"Like what?" I ask and they look down at their hands on the table.

"It's dark and there's a voice. We both feel like we're talking to ourselves in our dreams. There's a light and then I see thread with scissors while Lindsey sees thread on spindles and measuring tape of some sort. We wake up and forget it almost all of the time." Amelia says and I nod seriously, meanwhile in my head I'm dancing around, feeling victorious.

"You asked us about dreams." Lindsey begins. "What have you dreamt?" She adds.

This is where I pause a little, only to get the tension just right. I'm serious, although the inner me is snickering.

"The same thing, only the voice is Clotho, as me, and there's a treadle wheel. Every time I dreamt, I got closer to that wheel and I wanted to feel the yarn." I reply, keeping out the fact that I embraced Clotho. They haven't yet and I fear they won't want to.

They look grim and nervous.

"Then something did happen." Lindsey says, defeated, admitting that they didn't just cast some wicked spell that brings them into their favourite TV show. It takes a lot of restraint for me not to blurt everything out to them.

I have to do this wisely.

"What did you do for your spell, exactly?" I ask and Lindsey gives me this frown, like she doesn't remember, obviously, don't you know? "You must remember." I add, sort of like a command that stuns her a little.

She begins to think and Amelia does too.

"I remember the candle, letting it burn as we fell asleep." Lindsey says and I know they can't remember shit until they accept the essences within them.

"Do you remember anything suspicious?" I ask her and she frowns, deep in thought.

"No." She replies and I know she's putting up that wall in her head, the wall of denial.

I tried being nice. My patience is running thin. It's time to turn it up a notch.

"Try being pulled into this world, something slithering into us." I say and they look at me, this stare slowly falling over their faces. They look at me like they don't recognize me. Must be the seriously crazy expression in my eyes. "Feel what's inside of you. It's ancient and giving you answers, you just have to listen." I conclude and Amelia pushes her chair back, standing up with this frown on her face.

"What is wrong with you? The minute I think you're normal, you go crazy again!" She snaps and Lindsey gets up, obviously disgusted too.

"What is normal?" I ask and they walk out, put off. I think that was a good question. "Admit it, you feel something, like someone staring over your shoulder!" I shout.

I close my book and put it back on the shelf, very impatient now. I never used to be this way. Then again, I wasn't a Fate.

Hours later, the Winchesters return. I can see that things were a little touch and go, but they made out fine. I can see that Dean confronted Mick about killing a girl that was turning into a werewolf. I can see Mick watched over Claire, but they had returned to find her gone. The cure worked out well and they killed the werewolf, exactly the person I saw.

It's funny to see the future and then see the same, but this time as the past. It's a little eerie.

And odd how time flies, but maybe that's because I was also looking forward and backward, losing track of time altogether.

Sam and Dean look exhausted. They sit at the usual table with Amelia and Lindsey, discussing some things about the case. I don't have to listen, I already know everything.

So I sit and think of what to do next. It'll be tricky with the brothers here, but then, a vision enters my thoughts and I relax. There's another hunt for them soon and then I'll have the chance to awaken those essences for once and for all.

The girls went to bed early, oddly feeling fatigued, but I know it's because the essences are fighting back. They're only to ignorant to see it. I'm about to go to my room for some peace and quiet, or should I say isolation, when I hear Sam's footsteps at the end of the hall. I turn and look at him, seeing this expression of uncertainty.

"Are you turning in?" He asks and I grin as it's pretty obvious with my hand on my doorknob.

"You want to talk?" I ask and he gives a small smile.

"It can wait." He says and walks away. I stay there for a moment, but decide to go into my room and eavesdrop on him. If I can, that is.


	12. Chapter 12

I walk in and lock the door behind me, looking around my room. I probably can see him in my mind like I did with those people, but that was their past and future. I want to see Sam in the present. I want to know what he's going to say to Dean.

"Here." Says my voice that I know to be Clotho. I still don't know if that voice comes from outside or inside my head. I see Clotho in my mirrors, all of them which looks pretty cool. I approach the mirrors and hear her voice once again. "Try scrying."

I smile as I know exactly what she means.

Since I can't dim the lights in my room, I light some candles and then shut off the lights. I got the scented candles because I can't quite tolerate incense. All I have to do is relax, get into a meditative state and see with my third eye. I sit on my bed with one of the mirrors off the wall, looking into it, relaxed. They say to begin with a prayer to your spiritual guardian, as what can come through scrying, much like an ouija board, but Clotho is in me so I'm good. No ghosts coming to haunt my ass.

I look into the mirror, focusing on Sam, trying to see him. It should be easy because he's not that far away, but I have to try. Plus, it's like practicing on something easy so I can do it again for someone far away. Like Mick.

I breathe, being mindful, but focusing more on seeing what's in the mirror with my mind's eye. Eventually, I begin to see some things I know aren't in my room in the reflection of the mirror. Then, it's like the mirror begins to blur and I see Sam walking into the kitchen, but it's like he's on fast forward. He sits down and has a beer with Dean, shaking his head and telling him that I'm not myself. He doesn't need to talk to me to know that.

Then, time runs smoothly as it should.

"Yeah, she seems to think she's a Goddess. That sounds like someone who's lost their mind." Dean replies, somewhat distant, but Sam seems genuinely worried.

"Think about it, Dean. Celeste was the only one of sound mind. Now, Amelia and Lindsey appear normal while Celeste seems like a different person. Something is going on. And how would she have known who the werewolf was? She knew our case before we really did." Sam says and Dean drinks his beer, sort of blocking his brother out. "What if Celeste isn't talking crazy? Amelia and Lindsey are holding something back and you know it." He concludes, only then getting big brother's attention.

"So, if she is a Goddess, what exactly?" Dean asks, humouring Sam.

"Not just any Goddess. Clotho. The Moirai. She's trying to get the other two to think they're part of the Moirai too." Sam says and Dean doesn't seem convinced.

"How would that have happened?" He asks, but Sam doesn't know. "There was nothing at the hospital where we found them. We have no evidence to support your theory, Sherlock. Maybe Celeste has multiple personalities." He adds and I frown, losing my concentration. The scrying is over and I look at my own reflection, insulted but somehow agreeing with Dean. I do feel like I have multiple personalities. I am changed.

But changed for the better, I'd say.

Everyone is asleep, but me. I can't seem to drift away even in the slightest of sleep cycles. I read a book, five chapters later, my eyes aren't sore. I play some games on my iPhone, listen to some music and watch some videos. I then walk around the bunker and feel restless. I crawl back in bed and nearly begin everything over again.

This is insane. Total insomnia!

As I pass Amelia's room, I stop and focus on why I stopped. I can sense something that I can't put into words. It's like you know something isn't right, but this feels more like something that makes me eager.

I turn her unlocked doorknob and peek inside. Her room is lit with her lamp, the opposite of mine which is in total darkness. She sleeps soundly, but something seems off. I approach silently and see beads of swear on her forehead. Does she have a fever?

I focus my concentration on her and whisper a name.

"Atropos." I say and watch as she stirs, a frown appearing on her face. "Come forward, Atropos." I whisper again and stare as she twitches.

"Trapped." Amelia says, but I know that to be Atropos.

"I'm working on it." I say and Amelia settles back down, never skipping a beat of her REM cycle. I step back and leave quietly, going to Lindsey's room to find her in exactly the same condition. She sleeps with a lamp on, beads of sweat on her forehead.

This has to be what happens when you deny the essence of a Fate within you.

"Lachesis." I whisper and get the same reaction. "Come forward, Lachesis." I add, getting once again the same result.

"Help." She replies and I give her the same answer. All I can do is slowly work my way there. In the morning, I'll have to try something, despite the Winchesters being there to witness it. I don't think it would hurt them anyway.

After a sleepless night, Sam and Dean are speechless to see Amelia and Lindsey wake up with fevers, looking like utter shit. As I walk into the usual room just beneath the staircase up to the entrance, they all stare at me, looking good in my jeans and red shirt, totally normal.

Well, as normal as they perceive me.

"What's up?" I ask and the girls sort of glare at me, as if pissed off that I'm not sick too, whereas the boys look at me somewhat suspiciously. "Is there another apocalypse?" I ask and the brothers frown a little. "I'll take that as no. Who wants some eggs for breakfast?" I ask and leave for the kitchen.

I'm taking out the eggs from the fridge, preparing the frying pan on the element that is beginning to heat. I crack open the eggs and let them fall into the pan. I don't know how they want to eat their eggs. I could scramble them once I cracked enough.

"Hey." Sam says from behind me and I smile. Got to love his personality.

"Yeah, you wanted to talk last night." I say, keeping my back to him. "What's on your mind?" I ask and he's silent for a moment.

"Don't you know that?" He asks and I laugh.

"I'm not a mind reader, Sam." I reply, scrambling the eggs.

"What happened to you, Amelia and Lindsey?" He asks and I shrug my shoulders, playing stupid. "You all know, but not one of you will tell us." He adds and stands closer to me, off to my right. "Please tell me." He says and I just hesitate. Why do I hesitate? Should I not tell him? Does Clotho want to remain my secret?

I look into his brown eyes, lost for words.

"Please. There's nothing you can say that we won't believe." He says and his expression reveals loyalty and compassion. Oh, he's such a great guy. I feel bad that I had been a Dean girl for six years and of those six years, only twice did I consider being a Sam girl. After Crowley came into the picture and Adam Milligan, not to forget Castiel, I got confused with my feelings. Eventually, season 9 and so on, I decided to just go with it and be a Gadreel girl, a Crowley girl and a Winchester girl; because I can.

"You said I'm like a different person." I say and his eyes sort of narrow, but then they widen as he realizes he only said that to his brother. "I am, yet I'm not." I add and his compassionate expression returns. So far, Clotho doesn't stop me and then I come to think that maybe she won't, because she's me and I'm her. "I think you can understand when I say I'm Clotho's true vessel." I conclude.

Sam has this distant look in his eyes as he thinks back to the moment in his life where Lucifer wanted him, because he is Lucifer's true vessel. Now Lucifer just settles for what he can get. That Nick guy stands up pretty good.

"It's complicated. If you aren't going to freak out, if Dean won't consider killing us, not that I think he would, then you better sit down and listen." I say, nearly forgetting the eggs on the stove.

Sam lets me finish cooking the eggs. I take out some plates.

"The others aren't hungry." He says, so I just take out two and we sit at the table with the eggs we're probably not going to eat because what I have to say is going to… well, I'm going to eat my eggs, but Sam will probably be too disturbed.


	13. Chapter 13

Sam was a little disturbed. Well, he handled it pretty good. However, he seemed uncomfortable with the spell, how it left no trace, no way back like the spell they know from _The French Mistake_. I'd say he's more worried about how this impacts me.

"I'm fine, you know. It's Amelia and Lindsey you should be worried about." I say and his eyes darken, thinking about them.

"They're sick because of Lachesis and Atropos." He says and I nod my head, looking at his eggs, perfectly untouched while I ate mine like five minutes ago. "They can't be forced to accept the Moirai." He adds and I nod. Then, he stares at me funny. I can just imagine what's going on in his head.

 _You accepted Clotho? Are you insane? You want Amelia and Lindsey to accept Atropos and Lachesis? Are you insane? Have you lost any humanity that you had before? You've changed! You were once a reasonable person! Look at you!_

"What?" I ask as his stare intensified, and at that moment, Dean walks in, looking down at his cell phone before he puts it in his pocket.

"We have a case." He says and I haven't seen Sam this irritated about a case before. I know he wants to stay and figure this out. I would have told him that I plan on taking Lachesis and Atropos into myself, but he might object to that idea.

"You guys go and I'll keep an eye on the sickies." I say and Dean accepts, but Sam hesitates. "They'll be fine. Let me handle it." I add and he seems reluctant, but he follows Dean, getting ready to leave for another hunt.

I grab Sam's eggs, eating them. Equal opportunity, man.

I leave the dishes in the sink and head out to see Amelia and Lindsey curled up in the leather chairs. I walk up to them and they open their eyes. Wow, close to death. Quite ironic.

"Are you waiting here to see Sam and Dean leave?" I ask and they nod their heads. The poor little dears, fighting the essences of Lachesis and Atropos. Idiots. Accept them and you'll feel better. "What can I get for you two?" I ask and Amelia gives a weak smile.

"Some whiskey would be nice." She says and I grin.

"Sure. It can't kill you." I say and off I go to find the whiskey with a little bounce in my step. I walk into the kitchen, grabbing the bottle of whiskey and two glasses. As I exit, Sam and Dean are walking down the corridor with their bags.

"Hey, where are you going with our stock?" Dean asks and I grin at him, walking with them.

"The sickies requested booze to chase away their sickness. I'm humouring them." I say and Dean gives me a slight smirk, as we both know whiskey won't do a damn thing, other than give you a good buzz.

"Are you sure they'll be fine?" Sam asks and I glance at him, quick with a reply.

"Why? You plan to hook up with one of them?" I ask and he stares at me, speechless. "They'll be fine. By the time you return, they'll be back to their good old annoying fangirl selves, cheering you as you walk back in, drooling and asking to get into your personal bubbles the way Dean likes it." I say and ignore their stares on me.

Yes, I definitely am weird.

I hand Amelia and Lindsey the glasses and I pour for them as they tell Sam and Dean that they wish they didn't have to go, blah, blah, blah. Once their glasses are filled, I put the bottle back in the kitchen. I concentrate and see them in my mind, but see the case they'll be working on.

All will be good, so no reason to worry. Amelia and Lindsey would figure that out if they accept the essences of the Fates. However, if they don't, I can benefit from that. I'm hoping for it.

I'm also sensing something, but I can't see it. Why?

Because I apparently can't see my own future or the future of Amelia and Lindsey. Their pasts are all I can see. So how can I sense something? It's like when you sometimes feel someone is at your door, or your boss is about to walk into your office… but nothing happens. That's what I'm feeling.

The Winchesters leave and I turn towards the entrance of the kitchen with this sinister grin.

I have no intention of Amelia and Lindsey getting better. If the fevers continue, I'll succeed in reaching the essences of Atropos and Lachesis.

I wait for Amelia and Lindsey to sleep, and then I sit beside them, whispering to them to acknowledge the essences of the Fates. At first, they whimper in denial, but then they fall silent. I leave them, then check in later. They fall again in fits of fevers and I take this as a sign of acknowledgement as well as resistance.

I'm in my room, continuing my Wicca studies, when I feel this slight tingling on the back of my neck. I can't explain it, but that familiar sense from earlier returns. I can't explain it and I have no idea what it means. I look at my mirrors, expecting to see Clotho staring at me, but she isn't there.

I have a feeling I'm not going to see her as much now. I might hear her, but now that I'm embracing my Fate (ha-ha), Clotho might just become that little voice in my head one calls _instincts_.

I continue reading my book on rituals. It's always good to keep myself informed, like how to cast a circle. I never know which spell to use because they all vary. What I should really do is study various sigils. I get up and begin searching the bunker for that type of information. As I glance around the library, I remember Clotho telling me that if I was to learn everything there was to know, I would really lose my mind. I wonder if she could teach me sigils or if that didn't really have a place in Ancient Greece.

At that moment, I'm sort of knocked off my feet, my head spinning. I'm slightly nauseous, but then I seem to picture various sigils and know exactly what they signify.

Wish granted.

"A warning would have been nice." I mumble and sit down for a moment. For a Fate, I feel pretty human. Well, that's what I am. Although the Fates integrate themselves in human bodies, their vessels do not become indestructible. Kind of a let down, to be honest.

I leave to return to my room to rest, as this realization seems to hit hard and my body tells me that I need sleep. Not only that, but I feel like a headless chicken running around; doing everything and doing absolutely nothing.

I first check in on Amelia and Lindsey, still with fevers. I whisper the names of Lachesis and Atropos and see that I have a bit more access to their essences. That means the girls have acknowledged the Moirai, but have not yet accepted it.

I don't know how long Lachesis and Atropos can wait. I don't know at what point they'll fight their way to acceptance or if they'll simply possess the girls.

 _If it comes to that, all you have to do is invite them into yourself. I warn you, it will be very difficult for you and you will lose your mind, all joking aside._

Thanks Clotho for that bright little side note.

I walk into my room, thinking that maybe the girls will come to accept the Moirai like I have. Maybe I should give them a chance before I take in all three Fates and become a drooling mess in the corner.


	14. Chapter 14

I wake up from a dreamless sleep to hear an echoed bang. I sit up in bed and feel that tingling in my neck again, this time going down into my back. I slip out of bed, suddenly feeling the need to fix my clothes. I rub down my skinny jeans, switch my sneakers for my little black boots, I smooth out my red t-shirt that hugs all my curves and decide not to cover my wonderful shape with my jacket.

It's like I have an idea what is going on.

I leave my room and listen attentively in the corridors, not hearing much.

As I get to the room just as you come down the stairs and down the three or so steps, I see someone sitting at the table. It takes me a moment to recognize the guy and not to freak out.

It's Mick Davies.

He's here to get Sam and Dean to fill out their reports, but most importantly to sort out his thoughts that conflict him. Since killing that werewolf at the hospital, seeing her die a human, he's been questioning everything. He can't stop thinking about his test back at the Academy, the one where he hand to kill his best friend.

He saw the werewolf cure work on Claire. He saw how much Sam and Dean cared for her and how they wouldn't accept anything less than a cure for her. They didn't see a monster, they saw a friend in need of their help.

He'll soon come to realize that their way of hunting really is the best and when faced with the woman, Doctor Hess, that made him kill his best friend, she is going to have him killed by Ketch. Poor bastard will get shot in the back of the head.

Doctor Hess gives Ketch a new mission: kill the American hunters because their little plan failed epically and this is really bad.

I look at Mick pour more Scotch in his glass and begin to feel a little weird. I'm thrilled, but panicked. He's going to die for believing in something the British Men of Letters deem to be weakness. It's not fair. No one is going to have the slightest clue that hunters will be hunted.

Not cool. Isn't there a way to stop this from happening? Isn't Chuck going to intervene or is he too busy hanging out with Amara?

 _There is something that can be done. You will not be able to save him from death, but you can resurrect him._

Oh, great, I can intervene, but that sounds exactly like _not_ the thing I want to do. When I was here on day one, I gave Sam and Dean shit for giving Mick a chance and now, here I am, wanting to give Mick a chance.

 _No, what you want is to rewrite his death. You cannot do that alone._

But I did with that young couple.

 _You throw them an obstacle, that was different. Think of the cat. You resurrected the cat. You can do the same for Mick._

If I had Lachesis and Atropos, are you saying that I could prevent his death?

 _Most stubborn you are._

Thanks, Yoda. Tell me I'm right.

 _You'd be very powerful, but is that really the best option?_

What? You protest now?

 _I very much like having my vessel to myself. And I'm sure you like your sanity._

Fine. What do I do?

 _Bind his spirit to his body, so upon his death, his spirit does not travel into the light._

You mean make him a zombie? Ew. No one wants to be a zombie. Plus, he'll walk around with a bullet hole right through his forehead. I don't think he'll appreciate that.

 _Fine. Than your only other option is the bind his spirit to an object that is there at the moment of his death. His spirit will stay. Take the object, wait until his body is destroyed and then release his spirit. It will become corporeal. There is only one problem._

Only one?

 _This spell will make him immortal._

Yeah, that's a real bitch. Bummer.

 _You joke, but most fear the idea of becoming immortal. It sounds glorious, until you realize it's an eternal existence of loneliness._

Okay, so what's the spell?

 _Before I give you the spell, I'll offer you a deal._

What the Hell? That's Crowley's thing.

 _This deal offers something for you._

I can't wait to hear what this offers me. Years shaved off my life? Yeah, who wants to live? So overrated, right?

 _No doubt, you like him._

What? No way! I don't like Mick at all. He's a British Man of Letters. Those guys are dicks.

 _You like his eyes and his accent. At least he's a step above Crowley._

Hey! Who said I like Crowley?

 _I know everything about you, Celeste. The fact that you try to lie to me is absurd. Now please listen. Perform the spell, but also perform a binding spell on Amelia, Lindsey and yourself. We will not lose our true vessels again to wait endlessly in Limbo. Lachesis and Atropos won't need their acceptance with the binding spell. My sisters need their vessels. You need your sanity if you want to find yourself appealing to Mick._

What? Just what the fuck? Are you trying to make me like Mick?

 _You have a week after his death to fulfill this deal or I will render you insane._

Wow. I think I just saw your dark side. I'm going to call it _bitchy_ _bitch_.

 _Do we have a deal, Celeste? I give you the spell to save Mick and you bind Lachesis and Atropos to Lindsey and Amelia._

I don't seem to have a choice.

 _That's how I make my deals, not that I make them often._

I find that hard to believe, but what's the spell?

 _Take the item, saturate it in your blood and that of Amelia and Lindsey. They might not have accepted the Moirai, but they are still the true vessels. Once the object has been covered, pass it through the flame of a candle with these words: I bind thee, Mick Davies, to this item at the moment of your death. Your spirit will stay, well after your final breath, awaiting my release. When it comes to releasing his spirit, simply destroy the item._

And he'll be immortal?

 _Once you bind the Moirai to their true vessels, you will all be immortal. Mick can have friends for all eternity._

Wow. That sounded like sarcasm.

 _Go now._


	15. Chapter 15

I lean in the doorway of the corridor to the base room (might as well call it the base room), purposefully posing to emphasize my feminine curves. Mick better not be gay after everything I'm going to do for him, or I'll be one seriously pissed off chick. Like, I can see he didn't have gay intercourse, but he better not swear off women after this.

Mick drinks his Scotch, his mind elsewhere.

Yeah, damn Clotho is right; he is a handsome one.

Damn. Why do I always like damaged goods? Then again, every guy here is damaged goods.

"Do you always break and enter, going straight for the booze?" I ask and he snaps out of it, looking at me, nearly from head to toe before meeting my eyes. I walk toward him after a few seconds, grabbing a glass from the shelf and sitting right next to him, pouring myself some Scotch.

Mick continues to look at me, a little stunned.

"I can see you're accustomed to drinking alone. A dangerous habit." I say, casually meeting his eyes, and he seems to snap out of his daze.

"W-why is that?" He asks with his Irish accent. Oh, Clotho was right. I love me some accents.

"It's frightfully boring." I reply with a slightly flirtatious smile, taking a sip.

"And you are?" He asks and I swallow the Scotch, keeping that smile, eyes so seductive on him. Oh, I might be laying it on thick.

"Celeste Armstrong." I reply and he stares at me. I'm starting to think he hasn't spent much time around women because he has issues, like Dr. Hess whipping desire for relations with others out of him. I take a quick glance into his life and see he was too driven by work to be around women much, indeed because he was drilled to be that way. So my fear of him being gay is shot to the face. Lets just hope he has a healthy sexual appetite, like a build up of sexual tension.

Damn, Clotho was right; I really do like him. Fuck. When did that happen? Like seriously? I just want to kiss the guy and possibly jump him at the same time.

"And you know the Winchesters?" He asks and my smile turns into a grin.

"Yup." I say and he continues to stare, like although I answered his questions, he doesn't have any idea why I'm drinking next to him. "Are you a cop?" I ask and his lips twitch a bit before he looks away from me and looks at his glass. Apparently, he doesn't drink in front of a lady. I say that because he just touches his glass as he stares at it.

"No." he replies and I continue to stare at him, that unshaven face, the black suit and his white shirt. Gorgeous.

"Just a Man of Letters." I say and he looks at me a little caught off guard. "Dean has been complaining. So I guess you are Mick." I say, making it sound like I don't already know him. Don't want to shock the poor guy with the fact that I already know his life and his future.

"Mick Davies." He says and I smile, extending my hand for a formal greeting. He takes my hand and meets my eyes, still a little stunned. His hand is warm and soft, and my heart actually does a little flip in my chest. A total cliché, I know, but it might just be my excitement. My last boyfriend wasn't as gorgeous as Mick and by that I mean my non-existing boyfriend. All I had were some dates here and there.

"Hello, Mick." I say and he gives me a straight line of the lips. I guess that's a smile.

"Hello, Celeste." He replies and I smile. Oh, I love hearing my name with his accent. He releases my hand and glances at his glass for a few seconds, as if unsure what to do next. I glance at his hands and his golden ring, all big and fancy on the hand I didn't have the privilege to touch. So, I give his ring a slight tap, getting his caught-off-guard attention again.

"That's cool. School ring?" I ask and he looks down at it, his eyes a little dull before they meet mine.

"The Academy." He replies and I nod. At this point, I'm going to label Mick as seriously shy around women. It's that ridiculous.

"Was it like Hogwarts?" I ask and he actually smiles. Well, half of a smile, to be honest.

"Not at all." He replies and takes a drink. Yeah, I thought that would make him drink. Poor guy is having a hard time with knowing he killed his best friend as a kid. That Doctor Hess is a bitch. Can I kill her?

…

Clotho, can I kill her?

 _In time._

Good.

"Stay here often?" Mick asks and I give him a smile as he begins to warm up to me.

"Lately, yeah." I say, once again not telling him everything. "My cousin and her friend are sick." I say, pointing casually with the hand that holds up the Scotch to my lips. He glances in the direction in which I'm pointing and glances back at me.

"Gravely ill?" He asks, genuinely concerned. Ah, such a great guy.

"Fevers. They should be fine in a couple of days." I reply, knowing I'll have to bind the Moirai to Amelia and Lindsey like Clotho wants. There goes my plan. Fucker. "Waiting for Sam and Dean?" I ask and he gives a slight nod.

"I thought they'd be here." He replies and I can see that he just wanted a place to think in peace, whether the Winchesters were home or not.

"No, but I'd like to think you got better company." I say and he looks at me, this time without looking so shy. I give him that slightly seductive smile and wait to see what that gets me.

"Thank you." He says and we drink together.

We refill our glasses, not saying much, but feeling a little more comfortable around each other. And by that, I mean shy Micky. Hey, I like that: Micky. My Micky boy.

Hey Micky you're so fine, you're so fine you blow my mind, hey Micky!

"Are you a hunter?" Mick asks, wanting to keep the conversation alive. Ah, he likes me. Well, I'd like to think he does.

"No. Sam and Dean just helped us, letting us stay here." I say and there's a softness on his face, like this is comforting to him. "I don't think I have what it takes to be a hunter. It's putting your life on the line for others, fighting uncontrollable monsters, sometimes making difficult decisions." I say and then he frowns a little for a couple of seconds.

"Are you presuming monsters can be controlled?" Mick asks, obviously ignoring the fact I mentioned the sacrifice of being a hunter. I shake my head, putting some tenderness in my expression that keeps his eyes on me.

"No. What I mean is that some monsters can control their own impulses. Not every monster wanted to be one in the first place." I say and he frowns a little again. "Sam and Dean have already met some that refused to harm people. A vampire, for example, even with a hunter threatening to drop his blood into her mouth, refused to consume blood." I say and he stares at me for a moment, then nods a little. I know he's not totally convinced, but he's not disregarding what I've said.

"And difficult decisions?" He asks and I give him a soft smile that's slightly sad.

"Do you sacrifice yourself to save everyone in the world, including the one you care most about, or do you both face the consequences, risking the world and everyone, just to stay together?" I ask, referring to the times Sam and Dean picked each other over everyone else or decided sacrifice was the best. They've done both.

Mick nods again and we have this silent moment as if thinking it over.

"Well, you may not be a hunter, but you could be a –" he says and I laugh a little, making him cut his sentence short.

"A Woman of Letters?" I ask and the term surprises him a little, earning me a slight grin. Hey, total credit to Charlie for that. She was a Woman of Letters, Legacy style, like Sam and Dean. I'm still pissed that she's dead.

"Yes." Mick replies, regardless of the little smirks on our faces.

"Isn't that an Academy thing?" I ask, hiding my knowledge of the Academy and all it's bullshit.

"Not necessarily." He replies and we're just smiling at each other, like we've both forgotten the situations we're in and why we started drinking. Well, I started drinking so I could talk to him. He's trying to bury his true feelings on his life since he first joined the damned Academy.

"Well, no offence Mick, but from what Dean said, it doesn't sound fun." I reply and the smirk on his face disappears, like the wave of bliss passed and he now remembers why he's here drinking.

"We do our part to make the world a better place." He says and I give him a soft smile.

"For who?" I ask and he frowns a little, just staring at me, waiting for me to elaborate. "Monsters, like hunters, didn't ask to be made; Fate just happened and it's not always fair. Through difficult situations in life, no one asks to come out of it with a burden they can't shake off." I add and we stare at each other for a brief moment, just before the door opens and the Winchester boys walk in, ruining my fun with Mick. I was really hoping we'd get pass the business, get drunk and get real personal.

They come down the stairs and are surprised to see Mick. Probably even more so to see me drinking with him.

"How did you get into our home?" Dean asks and looks at me. I raise both hands, as if to say it wasn't me.

" _Our_ home." Mick corrects. "With one key, you can enter any Men of Letters chapter around the world." Mick replies and Dean doesn't seem pleased with that. He thinks of this as his home, the first since his mother died in their home in Lawrence, Kansas. Breaking into his home after all that does not sit well with him.

With the Winchesters staring at Mick with a little amount of discomfort, something tells me this is where I should take me leave, as much as I don't want to. So as the brothers sit across from Mick, I get ready to push my chair, as obvious by my body language. Mick turns his attention to me and I give him a regretful smile. He gets up awkwardly, stumbling slightly as he wants to stand, a total gentleman thing to do when a lady departs.

"It's been a pleasure, Mick. We are going to have to do this again." I say and he gives me a smile as he takes my hand again.

"Indeed." He replies and with my Scotch, I leave the boys to talk.

Damn! I want to stay with Mick, but I have a job to do. I have to wait until he's asleep and get his ring. I know he'll sleep here in the bunker overnight, after having been drinking. With his ring, I can bind his spirit to it, so when he dies, I can make his spirit corporeal once his body is destroyed.

Giving him a chance.


	16. Chapter 16

The guys had stayed up, drank more than they spoke, and now they're all out cold. As I look down at Mick sleeping, it's hard not to crawl over him in his black pants and white shirt. So fucking gorgeous! The white shirt of sex, I'm telling you.

I have to remember that I'm here for his ring, not his sexy body and totally-not-gay-sexual appetite despite his shy nature.

I take his hand cautiously and slowly pull his ring off his finger. He doesn't even stir, which is good because I'd have to explain myself and that wouldn't go well.

With his ring, I go back to my room and get my little bowl. I have to get blood from Amelia and Lindsey who are thankfully too damned sick to even wake up when I poke them with a small knife, getting them to bleed a little. The blood drips on Mick's ring and then I apply some band-aids to stop the bleeding. Can't say I didn't take care of their sorry asses.

I return to my room and drip into the bowl some of my own blood. I make sure every little spot of the ring is covered in our blood.

I then light a match, light my candle, and pass the ring soaked in blood through the flame.

"I bind thee, Mick Davies, to this item at the moment of your death. Your spirit will stay, well after your final breath, awaiting my release." I say and oddly, I can feel the spell ready to take affect.

Wait, do I have to clean it? Oh, stupid question. Can't put it back on his hand soaked in blood.

I get it clean, scrub and soap, and place it back on my sleeping Micky boy. Poor guy won't be able to avoid the pain of his death. Although his death seemed quick, I think it did hurt in that small split second before he died.

I let my hand linger on his before I leave him. I return to my room, wondering exactly when he's to die.

That's until the vision flashes in my mind, letting me know it's in about twenty-four hours.

Just perfect.

I check in on Amelia and Lindsey after I slept a little. I couldn't sleep much after having a sort of countdown in my head to Mick's death. The girls are still pretty bad, but Sam and Dean don't know that yet. And I'm not binding the Moirai to us until I see Mick is good and alive after his death. After all, I have a week to complete the binding spell.

I check in on the Winchesters, not that I opened their doors or anything. I went back to my room and checked by scrying. Sam and Dean are going to meet up with a hunter who can help them find Kelly Kline, Lucifer's baby Mama, where they'll have a chance at killing Dagon. However, this hunter friend misses Dagon and she shoots a Men of Letters lap dog. Not an actual dog. Some snivelling loser who makes Micky feel bad.

Snivelling doesn't even describe the guy, but I like the way it sounds.

Snivelling.

I put the mirror back on my wall and rest some more, knowing there's not much I can do about anything. The bitch of it all is that I have to wait for time.

I wake up and get into cleaner clothes, making sure I still look good and smell delectable. I'm really hoping Mick is interested in me.

I leave my room and hear some noise down the corridor. I follow and walk into the kitchen to see Sam and Dean looking like shit. Mostly Dean who apparently tried to drink as much as Mick and discovers the guy can drink.

Then, Mick enters as if on cue, looking damn good for someone who drank Dean to a hangover.

He notices me and seems a little surprised, but gives me a slight smile as I lean against the counter, a smile in return, as well as a demonstration of my feminine form. Gotta flaunt what you have, know what I'm saying?

"Hello again, Mick." I say and he gives me a gentleman-like nod.

"Good morning." He says and glances at the Winchesters. Oh, he's shy in front of the boys. "How are we, men?" He asks and although Dean takes that as gloating, I know Mick is trying to hide his nightmares of killing his best friend in the Academy. A stupid test to show Doctor Hess that he can do as he's told without hesitance. Really stupid.

Poor Micky.

"Anyone hungry?" I ask and Dean looks at me like he could throw up. So I grin.

"No, thanks." Sam replies and only Mick smiles at me.

"No, thank you." He replies, his tone hinting that he didn't really want to turn down my offer, but didn't want me to cook for him either. Such a gentleman!

"How are Amelia and Lindsey?" Sam asks and they look at me with this type of concern, but I felt like throwing something at him. I know he's meaning for me to leave. I don't want to be kept away from Mick.

"Still sick. I checked on them early this morning." I say, but he seems to look at me as if to say that he's not asking to be nice. He's more or less trying to get me to leave voluntarily. Well, I don't want to. I made that clear.

But I have to leave.

I could so stomp my feet and grunt in protest.

"But, since you're so worried about them, I'll see if there isn't something I can do." I reply and he seems content. Oh, you know Sam, I liked you, but now you're getting on my nerves.

Mick gives me a slight twitch of the lips, as if he'd rather not see me go. I could be reading too much into his expressions, but I'm sure he knows the Winchesters have something important to tell him. I couldn't care less. My Micky is about to die tonight.

"See you later." I say with a slight smile and I make sure that I have a modest swing in my walk.

I nearly slap on cold cloths to Amelia and Lindsey's foreheads as they sort of wake up. They complain about my bed side manner. And they say they're cold, but they're actually burning hot, total fevers. They complain that they're feeling like shit, but aren't specifically telling me how they feel. Then, Lindsey actually throws up in her garbage by her bed, just missing me.

I have to clean it as she lies back in bed, about to die, apparently.

I get Lindsey a towel and leave her the garbage to use as her puking bucket, and check on Amelia. As I walk in, she looks at me and waits for me to sit next to her. Not on the bed, though; in the chair that I pull up. I'm not getting puke on me.

"Celeste, is it really Atropos?" She asks and I can answer this in different ways. I can soothe her into it. I can explain it so it doesn't hit her hard. Or…

"Yes."

I can just hit her hard.

"Why?" Amelia asks, confused. I see she isn't in denial anymore, but she hasn't accepted either. Well, once I do the binding spell, acceptance won't matter. Fuck, they are so going to hate me.

"Well…" I begin, thinking that maybe I should tell her that Atropos will explain it, but even if they do accept the essences of the Fates, I still have to bind them to us. It's not really a win-win situation for me. "Clotho, Lachesis and Atropos were the first true vessels of the Fates, you might as well say. You see, they were personifications of the Moirai, like Nyx is the night and Eos is the Dawn. Just because they don't look human, doesn't mean they're not there. However, being in human form helps when you're determining the Fate of humans." I say and although this might sound confusing, Amelia is actually following me.

"So, they possess." She states.

"Sort of." I reply. "The Moirai were at the old hospital, waiting for vessels that won't break down. Their next true vessels, which is us, were in another world. They had to find a way to get us here." I say and Amelia's eyes slowly go distant, and then there's this _Ah-ha_ moment on her face.

"The spell." She whispers. "Lindsey found it on a piece of paper that was wedged in between some witchcraft books in the library." She adds, but that doesn't really sound like what Clotho told me. "She started getting interested in witchcraft after you told us about Wicca. I thought it was weird of her, but I didn't think much of it. After all, I was the same thing." Amelia concludes and now I nod my head. Yup, it makes sense now. They were influenced. Hell, maybe I was influenced too.

Although Clotho said my will was too strong, I was the one interested in Wicca. They get interested, find the spell and perform it. So, my question is, where did my interest in Wicca stem from if I couldn't have been influenced due to my strong will? Just me or was that the beginning of me possibly discovering my secret path, my destiny?

Or maybe my imagination is gong wild with theories.


	17. Chapter 17

Amelia and I have come to an understanding of how things have happened. Whatever kinks were in are relationship seem to have been smoothed out. It's not perfect, but it's better.

Until I do the binding spell, then she's going to hate me.

But that's not today.

"Why are we sick?" She asks, obviously meaning they're sick and I'm not. Yeah, I guess Clotho can take back her comment of me being strong willed. If I accepted her so easily, I couldn't have been so strong willed, right?

So, how will I answer her question?

"You haven't accepted the Moirai like I have." I say, bluntly. I can see by Amelia's facial expression that accepting isn't something she's comfortable doing, and then I see that she's shocked that I was.

"That's why you've been strange." She says and I can't help but laugh a little.

"Haven't I always?" I ask, but she narrows her eyes at me.

"Not like this. You were scary crazy." She says and I might be reading too much into this, but it seems she's not liking my decision. "Why?" She asks and I shrug my shoulders. "That's not an answer." She concludes and I do it again, earning a frustrated grunt.

"Maybe I don't owe you one." I say and leave her room to get her another cold cloth, after I check on Lindsey who isn't doing so good, judging by the gagging sound I hear.

The Winchesters and Mick have left and I stand at the base of the stairs, just looking up at the door. I didn't even have a chance to say goodbye. Mick is going to die and yes my spell will work, but it's all I can do for him. I know it's a lot, it's everything. He's going to live forever.

But he's dying because he suddenly got a moral without Hess' permission, getting shot by someone who he's been working with. A man without moral, or even a soul for that matter. It's not fair.

Mick dies for the right thing and I bring him back for… for what, exactly? So he can hear the grand asshole plan because no one else will have heard? I know what is going to happen. Isn't that enough?

No, I'm saving him because I like him. My own feelings are making me play Goddess.

 _No, Celeste. You're saving him because he's a good man that doesn't deserve to die. He was an orphan, pickpocketing to survive. He picked a cursed coin and sought help, only to be taken in to be trained to obey orders thoughtlessly. He's a good man that will become a great man due to choosing his own Fate. Please appreciate the irony in that. And yes, you like him, but you like him because he is a good deserving man. He'll need you, now keep your calm._

Thanks Clotho for the pep-talk, I say with no sarcasm.

I keep taking care of Amelia and Lindsey, finding a bit more compassion, forgiving everything between us. We all have something that brings us closer together, whether we like it or not. We are bound together, although I have not yet cast the spell that actually does that.

We're soon to be sisters.

"Celeste." Lindsey mumbles after throwing up a couple of times, lying in bed looking half-dead. "How is it I'm sicker than Amelia?" She asks and I find it a little funny, only because they both ask me why they're sick.

"Do you fight Lachesis?" I ask and she nearly spats at my words. I'll take that as an affirmation.

"This is crazy." She murmurs and I actually sit on her bed, risking getting projectile vomited on. Why look good when there's no one to see me?

"Is it crazy to have something invade your dreams and make you sicker than a dog because you refuse it?" I ask her and she stares at me with defiance. "Tell me what is really bothering you." I say and her defiance slowly weakens.

"Who's to say something is bothering me?" She asks, trying to hold onto her toughness.

"Because Amelia isn't throwing up and she isn't the one that found the spell well hidden in the library." I say and I swear she trembled a little.

"So what?" She asks, avoiding my eyes.

"So, what's eating at you?" I ask, fighting back a little smirk.

"Nothing." She says, looking away.

"Maybe I'll ask Lachesis." I say and then she looks at me, eyes blazing with anger.

"Don't you dare." She replies, her tone of voice warning me to keep my distance.

I won't, of course.

"Tell me." I say and I stare at her with my little lack-of-patience that seems to unsettle her a little. She fidgets in bed for a while, licking her lips that are cracked. She's hesitant, but I wait.

"This is all my fault." She mumbles.

"How?" I ask and she glares at me like it's a stupid question.

"I found the spell. I convinced Amelia to do it with me and then all this happened. It was fun at first, despite how scary it was not to remember a fucking thing." Lindsey says, not really looking that sick, although I can smell it. Gross. "I caused this." She concludes and I sort of expect some sad music to play to go well with the defeated expression on her face.

"No, the Moirai did this." I say and she looks at me, surprised and confused. "They needed you to do the spell or they'd forever be waiting for their true vessels. Us." I add and her stare on me remains frigid. "They are _not_ wicked, Lindsey. The world has Free Will and it still needs Fate. The Moirai need us and I'll tell you a little secret." I say and Lindsey listens attentively. "They're fun." I conclude and she arches an eyebrow at me.

"You're nuts." She says and I laugh.

"Clotho talks to me. She guides me. She accepts me, which sounds backwards, but she's me." I say and Lindsey keeps that expression of bewilderment. "This can be a beautiful thing, Lindsey. At first, I wanted to take in the essences of Lachesis and Atropos, making it easier for the both of you. Clotho didn't try to talk me out of it, but then we start talking and it's this sisterly bond, you know? She loves her sisters. She doesn't want to share me, but she wants good things for them." I say and Lindsey begins to look at me with a bit more softness.

For the first time, I realize that I can't see Amelia and Lindsey's futures or pasts. I guess I shouldn't be so surprised. One Fate can't read another like an open book.

Then, I get a good idea that I know will make her consider.

"And did I mention that you can check in on the Winchesters, know their future, change Fate a little, any time you want?" I say and watch her face become blank.


	18. Chapter 18

After telling the girls about the perks of being a Fate, they started getting better. They didn't accept yet, but they might be getting there.

But I still have to do the binding.

I was going to do it after Mick was alive, but that's when I thought they'd still be sick. They're not so sick anymore. I can try to convince myself that they'll eventually warm up to the idea of locking in the Moirai inside of us, but look how long it's taking them to warm up to the Moirai as is!

Not that I kept count.

My point is, they are not going to like the idea of sealing the essences of the Fates in our bodies, making us immortals. Forever Fates. In this dangerous world. Never going back home like Dorothy and the fucking Wizard of Oz.

At least the other vessels got to die, a sad version of Moirai retirement. But we are never going to have that option. I, on the other hand, am okay with that. As long as Mick is around.

And coming back to the subject of keeping count, I am keeping count of poor Micky's death. He's got approximately twelve hours left. I'm trying not to do a scrying to check up on him.

At the moment, I am on my bed with a mirror, waving my little imaginary white flag of surrender to my impulses. I relax and focus my mind's eye to see him. When I do, my heart feels light. He's wearing the same suit, only with a tan trench coat.

Wait, really? What is with the trench coat? Not that it doesn't look good, but…

Oh, it's not important. What is important is that snivelling loser he's got following him like Hess' little lap dog. He's not pleased about Mick handing over the…

The Colt! Oh, that's awesome. Ah, Mick is so great.

In that instant, I am frustratingly interrupted by a knock on my door. Who knocks? Not that I don't appreciate it.

"What?" I ask.

"Your door's locked, genius." Amelia says and I grin. I forgot I locked it.

"Relax. I'm coming." I say as I put my mirror back on my wall.

"You naked or something?" She asks with sarcasm that makes me smirk. Amelia is sounding more like herself.

"No. My legs fell asleep." I lie and unlock my door, opening it to see not just Amelia, but Lindsey.

"We need to talk about the Moirai." Amelia says while Lindsey seems reluctant. I nod and follow them out to the library. We sit down at the table and there's a heavy silence that makes me impatient. I'm not going to wait for them to make themselves comfortable for the ugly truth.

"We're the true vessels, like it or not. They need us. They waited in that hospital for us. Us! We were in two different worlds. So yeah, you two opened the door and here we are. I made a big deal out of that and I'm sorry. But let that all go and see that the Moirai don't want to hurt us and don't want to use us. If you don't believe me, talk to them." I say and they seem to think for a moment, then exchange glances as if to make sure they're both going to make the same decision at the same time.

Then, they both faint in their chairs, just going limp.

Holy shit, that was easy.

 _I suggest now is the time to do the binding._

What the Hell? You said I had a week after Mick's death! Are you trying to cheat?

 _I also thought they would continue to resist. As true vessels of the Moirai, their futures are unseen to us They're speaking with my sisters now. Do the binding, they won't feel a thing, go to Mick and be ready._

You're also suggesting I don't tell Amelia and Lindsey what I did; just do it and leave. They'd be so pissed off with me. This is a bitch thing to do.

 _I know, but with the binding, you'd be stronger, able to teleport, render yourself invisible for more than shoplifting, and ease Mick's confusion. I'm not saying he's more important than your cousin and her friend._

You kinda are, but you know it's how I feel.

 _Yes, and I support you._

What's the binding spell?

 _You know the sigil. I released all that information to you. You have to carve it into the skin, enough to cause a scar. Let a flame touch it and will it. The spell can never be broken, as you willed it to happen._

Alright, let's get going.

I take an exact o-knife, see the sigil in my mind like I have always known it. It's like a half sunrise with an arrow going straight up with an _x_ meeting the horizon and the arrow, then a small circle that touches the arch of the sunrise and the middle of the arrow. That's going to be fun to carve on our skin.

And then we have to burn ourselves. Peachy.

So I start on myself. It hurts like Hell, but it has to be done. I bite through the pain as I draw the sigil on my arm. I have to go deep enough to leave a scar, which means more pain. When it's done, I pass it over the flame of a candle I have previously lit. It hurts just as much if not more than carving my skin.

I close my eyes and will it. It sounds easy, but it's like wishing for something so hard that you can feel it in your grip.

In that moment, I can feel this type of chill that runs through me.

 _Amelia and Lindsey. Quickly._

Alright, hold on.

I carve the sigil on Amelia and Lindsey, on their arms like I did mine, cringing the whole time because I'm causing them pain and it goes against my nature. Not only that, but they're going to hate my guts when they wake up.

Once the sigil is on their arms, I take the candle and let the flame touch, willing the binding to take affect like it did for me.

And it's done.

I take one of the cars in the garage and leave, oddly seemingly knowing where to go.

 _It's the ring. It acts like a beacon, especially with his death eight hours away._

Eight hours? Seriously? How long is it going to take me to get to him?

 _You're a Fate, Celeste._

And then I start to relax, knowing that I don't have to race against time, not when I can make time my bitch.


	19. Chapter 19

I watch from afar the confrontation with Kelly Kline and Dagon that goes horribly wrong so fast. I did my invisible thing to stay out of sight. Dagon is seriously scary. Would not want to face her, even as a Fate. She's just creepy.

I can imagine how Lucifer is... my skin crawls.

Oh, snivelling guy is dead. Well, that's what happens when bookworms are sent to a fight.

No offence Micky.

Dagon is gone with Kelly and Sam's deaf hunter friend is stunned. Oddly, Mick is going to shoot her. Well, he hasn't yet come to terms with his beliefs. A part of him still feels obligated to the code of the Men of Letters.

Sam does his thing, talking Mick down from shooting his friend, telling him that he can have his own code. Very true, which is what Mick needs to hear.

I watch as he lets them go, as he feels responsible for the little dead punk, knowing that this isn't going to go well with Hess. Yeah, my poor Micky has no idea and worst or all, I can warn him about it. If I were to pull him aside before he goes into Hess' trap, or even pop up in his car on the way there, he'd really be confused and then he might not know what it is the old bitch Hess has up her ugly retro sleeve.

So, I wait for Mick to leave and then I do the same.

Oh, I'm not going to follow him. He's not stupid and I don't think I can make the whole car invisible. Plus, imagine getting into an accident with a car you couldn't see. Not a good convincing accident report to your insurance company.

If I feel like I'm too far away, I know I can just teleport myself there. I don't need the car. I can hide it and teleport him with me.

Which won't help him not to freak out, but I'm sure I can calm him down with some feminine charm. Or so I hope.

I park the car off the road, down this little trail and I make sure it's not easily spotted. I can even slap on a sigil for good measure, but if this car gets stolen, I can steal another.

I feel Mick is nearing his death, so I will myself to be at the location of his death, unseen of course. I suspect it might cause a bit of a problem because of all the security they have, but I'm sure I can slip under. That or stick close to Mick as he gets through.

I'm out of this ridiculously cheap looking bunker when a car pulls up.

Mick is here.

It's going to be hard for me to watch him die.

Again.

But this time it's going to be more vivid than a vision. It's going to be hard. The only comfort I'll have is knowing that I hold the power to bring him back.

Mick cuts the ignition and steps out of the car, returning to the bunker where the Alpha vampire attacked, where his colleagues were killed. That is when the Winchesters told him about the spell for the Colt's bullets and, together, they worked on killing the Alpha. That was what convinced Sam that the Men of Letters aren't so bad.

Well, Mick wasn't.

I follow Mick to go through all the security checks and I have no problems. He doesn't even seem to suspect he's not alone. I'd be flattered if he felt like his guardian angel is with him.

Some guardian angel I'd be. Wait until you're dead, then I can help.

Once inside, he doesn't seem to really care that Ketch is on the second floor, looking down at him. That guy is an asshole. I can see his entire life and I just want to torch the bastard now. No conscience, which is exactly why he does what he does. He kills and he enjoys it.

Killer Ketch. Asshole.

"Where is Renny?" He asks and Mick just stops, looking up at him with a look that says he doesn't want to talk about it. All Mick wants is a drink. I can't blame him.

Oh, Renny Rawlings. Mr. Snivelling. Yeah, what a loser. Wait, did Stan Lee name him? Renny Rawlings. Seriously?

"Why did you call me here?" Mick asks, irritated.

"Oh, I didn't." Ketch says and Mick carries on, careless, although he's beginning to worry. Hess sent her lap dog and now someone called him to the bunker? Not good.

I follow Mick and feel my breath catch in my throat as I recognize the room. This is where he dies. There, Hess waits for Mick and he can't leave because Ketch comes down. I know Mick can feel the severity of the situation. I always thought people can somewhat feel their death approaching and now, being a Fate, I know that to be true.

"Mr. Davies." The old hag says.

"Dr. Hess. I didn't think you left London." He says and I can just see the little boy, forced into the Academy.

"I don't. But I have been tasked by the other elders to fix this rapidly deteriorating situation." She replies and I flip her my middle finger, which I know does nothing for the moment.

"Ma'am, please. I'm…" Mick says, but the old bitch cuts him off.

"Are you about to tell me that you are doing the best that you can? Two days ago, according to your own report, you let a Prince of Hell escape and the mother of Lucifer's child. And one of my best men was murdered by an American hunter, whom you allowed to live." She bitches and I roll my eyes.

Renny was a moron.

"If I might…" Mick tries, but he knows it's hopeless.

"These hunters are out of control. The brothers Winchester in particular, which Lady Bevell has exhaustedly documented." Hess says and I flip her my two middle fingers. If she thinks she can do better, I'd like to see her take on Lucifer.

Fuck, I can probably make that happen.

"Ma'am, if… if you could just listen…" Mick says and I just want to hold his hand, that poor little boy trying to stand tall against an intimidating old bitch.

"To what? More excuses?" Hess asks, obviously put off. "No. I don't think I will. Hunters are dogs, Mr. Davies. You give them an order and they obey." She says. Like Ketch? "That's how it works. So tell me, do they? Do they obey you?" She asks him and I can see that terrified boy, just doing what he thinks will help him survive his Hell. "No. Of course not. So, this Eileen Leahy will be found and killed in accordance with the Code. As for the Winchesters, like any rebellious hunter, they will be investigated. And if found guilty, executed." Hess concludes and I can see this as a way out for Mick. He might have seen it too and decided to fuck it.

"If they're found guilty?" He asks, finding that ridiculous. "Aren't hunters always found guilty?" He asks, boldly.

"Be careful, Mr. Davies." She replies, warningly.

"No." Mick replies, stunning her. Go Micky baby. "My entire life with the Men of Letters, I never broke a rule. And yes, at first I was shocked at how Sam and Dean operate. But what Lady Bevell doesn't mention is the lives they've saved, monsters destroyed, and outcomes made better. Not because of the Code, but because Sam and Dean Winchester's sense of what's right." He says and I so want to kiss him. Look at the conviction in his expression!

"And that is the crux of the matter. The Code is not a suggestion. It's an absolute. The Code is what separates us from the monsters. It is the order by which we all live." Hess argues and I see Mick's jaw clench.

"The Code is what makes a young boy kill his best friend. When I was a child, I had nothing. I owed you everything, and I obeyed. But I'm a man now, Dr. Hess." Mick says, with conviction and I watch as she makes this slight nod to Ketch who silently moves behind Mick and aims his gun at the back of his head. "And I see the choices, and I choose to do the right thing." Mick adds.

I have to close my eyes to keep my screaming as I hear the gun shot. All I hear is my heart racing.

And then I hear what would have been his final words.

 **Author's Note** : All credit goes to the show for their scene and lines, as well as for credit to the fan-powered websites that have transcripts of the episode. I wanted to keep it to those very lines, as I couldn't have put it any better than Mick. Or should I say the writers of Supernatural…?


	20. Chapter 20

"I choose to live by my own Code." Mick says and then he falls silent as Ketch comes around the table, looking down at Mick's body, blood pouring out of his forehead. I avoid looking at his body, but I look at the confusion on his face as he looks down at himself.

Dead.

"Mick." I say softly and he looks at me, very confused. "Ketch killed you, Sweetie." I say, thinking that sounds soft and compassionate. I have a feeling I'm just adding to his confusion.

"The grand experiment recruiting American hunters has failed. Utterly." Hess says and he looks away from me and looks at her, so very confused.

"What would you like me to do?" Ketch asks, like the obedient dog that he is, cold and heartless.

"Exterminate them. Every last one, including the Winchesters." She says and he nods. "And clean that up." She concludes, glaring at Mick's body, blood pooling. Ketch waits until she leaves and looks at his work with pride.

Bastard.

I slip my hand into Mick's, surprising him. His eyes meet mine and they're glazed with confusion. I give him a compassionate squeeze of the hand and close in, kissing his cheek. In that kiss, I chase away all the confusion of death, as well as any pain he might have felt. I don't think he did, but for his comfort I make sure there isn't a trace.

"Celeste?" He asks as I draw back. He stares at me, but then looks down at himself.

"I'm not a reaper and I'm not an angel." I say and his attention comes back to me, wanting answers.

"Then what are you?" He asks, his eyes piercing, obviously not happy.

Yeah, what the Hell am I?

"A Fate. The Moirai." I answer honestly. What the Hell else am I going to say?

"What's going on?" He asks me, glancing back at Ketch with a clenched jaw. I pull him away, into a room where he can't see Ketch clean. He stares at me and despite my softness, anything he might have felt for me might have vanished.

"This is important, so please listen carefully." I say and he stands perfectly firm, ready to listen. "You heard what they said, right?" I ask and he gives a slight nod with a hint of frustration. "You know what it means." I add.

"When things don't go right for the British Men of Letters, they have a habit of destroying it." Mick adds and I'm a little worried that he's not appearing more concerned. "Is that all you're worried about? The Winchesters?" He asks, his eyes piercing like he's hurt and angry.

Wow, he's different in death.

 _It's the trauma of the death. Keep him calm._

"I'm here for you, Mick." I say and his eyes immediately soften. "I'm a Fate, so I saw your death. You're a great guy who deserves much more than this. I can resurrect you, but we have to wait. I just wanted to make sure you heard because you'll be the only one that can do something about it." I add and his eyes remain on me as if he's stunned to hear that he's a hero or something.

"Wait for what?" He asks, his eyes going from soft to suspicious.

"For Ketch to burn your body." I say and his eyes widen with anger. He goes to march over to Ketch, but I get in his way.

"Move." He orders, but I remain still, my hands tenderly pushing against his chest to keep him inside the room. Oh, he's not a big man, but he has a nice physique.

"Mick, it's the only way I can bring you back. It was either my way or the zombie way, with a hole in your head." I say, a little too harshly, but it works. Mick relaxes and settles for just staring at me, disapprovingly, but I just look at it as a few more seconds to touch his chest. He moves away from me, hands on his hips, pushing back his suit jacket a little as he stares at the wall.

Fuck he's gorgeous when he's mad. His eyes are so beautiful.

 _Keep an eye on Ketch and get that ring._

Oh, I almost forgot.

I look and see Ketch pushing Mick's body off the table, getting the body bag ready. I walk out of the room, feeling Mick watching me. I bend and before I can focus on the ring, I look down at his face; eyes wide open and dead, that horrible hole in his forehead. I focus and grab his hand, pulling Mick's ring off his finger, keeping an eye on Ketch who doesn't notice a thing. He might notice that the ring has disappeared, because I'm sure he's a vigilant asshole. However, there's nothing he can do about it.

With the ring, I retreat back to Mick who stares at his body, but then looks at me as if thinking. I don't pay much attention to it as I hold the ring tightly in my hand.

"Now, we wait." I say and then that thinking expression on his handsome face changes.

"Is my ring cursed?" He asks and I look into his eyes and give him a soft smile.

"No, it's charmed. This is what keeps you from going to wherever spirits go. I had put a spell on it shortly after we met." I say and his stare on me remains rigid, like he doesn't want me to know what he's thinking. Well, he's succeeded there, although I imagine he isn't thrilled.

"You knew this would happen?" He asks and I want to tell him that it's not so hard to figure that out, but I can see he's pretty angry. "You didn't think to warn me?" He asks and I give him the unimpressed frown.

"Don't talk to me like that." I snap and we stare at each other for a short moment in silence. "If I had warned you, you'd have either thought I was crazy or, by some long shot, you'd think I was right and try something stupid, dying horribly, scared and in pain. You'd have died, hinting to Hess and Ketch that you knew about this and they'd begin to wonder how you knew. Do you think that sounds better?" I ask and he just stares at me, not pleased, but silent. "The Moirai can't go around warning everyone they're about to die. That sort of encourages the fear of death and death, Mick, is not the end." I conclude and his stare on me relaxes a bit, but it seems he doesn't appreciate being spoken to like this.

Get use to it, Micky.

I look out and see Ketch has Mick's body in the body bag and is proceeding to drag him down somewhere. I knit my eyebrows, stepping out a bit with curiosity.

"The incinerator." Mick says and I can picture that's what happened to Serena and Alton when the Alpha vampire struck. I glance over my shoulder and see him staring at Ketch with rage that I know is going to turn into a need for vengeance.

Then, Mick walks out, following Ketch knowing we can't be seen and that we don't leave a trace. I catch up to him and give him a frown.

"You're quite the handful." I say and he gives me a quick glance, going back to stare at Ketch with that anger.

We follow Killer Ketch down some corridors in silence, right down to the incinerator that's pretty much as I imagined. A big slab you push in, lock and punch to burn. We watch, awkwardly, as Ketch puts the body bag on the slab and goes to burn Mick's body. I glance at Mick and I see his jaw working, those little twitching movements that dive him to protest, but he knows that he has to wait like I said.

"We'll have to leave, get far out of here before I release you from this spell." I say and he doesn't reply as Ketch shuts the door, locks it and punches the button that burns Mick's body. I glance at him and see his twitches continue. I can imagine how natural this all feels.

But sadly, nothing is ever going to feel natural again.


	21. Chapter 21

Ketch leaves, brushing right past us, not even noticing anything. It's like we're ghosts that don't even leave that cold chill. Mick stares at him with hate, watching him leave. Those eyes of his are gorgeous, but I wouldn't want him to look at me that way.

I approach the incinerator and look through the little window with sympathy. I feel Mick walk a little closer to me, probably itching to leave.

"How long?" He asks, showing his impatience like I had predicted.

"I don't know how long it takes for this thing. Hold on a minute." I say and can hear the shifting of his feet. Oh, he's pissed. He probably wants to beat the shit out of Ketch. Can't blame him.

 _Wait for the buzz and then go._

Thanks Clotho.

"Wait for the buzz." I say and he's silent. Then, almost on cue, give or take a dozen seconds, the buzz rings and the incinerator lets the fire burn itself out. "And there we are." I say and turn around to see Mick right behind me, his hand out for me to take him and release him.

I take his hand and teleport back to the car. He's a little stunned to see we're out in the wilderness, by a car, far from the bunker. However, he looks at me, waiting for me to release him. I take the keys from my pocket and pop the trunk, looking through to find a small sludge hammer.

That'll destroy his ring.

I go to a rock on the ground, surprisingly doing good despite the darkness. Mick stands beside me, watching. I ready the hammer, readying the ring.

"I hope you don't want this back." I say, somewhat jokingly.

"No." He replies dryly and I smash the ring hard. It shatters and I can feel the spell break and then I see this glow off to my side. I see Mick looking at himself glowing, touching his chest and looking at his hands as the glow steadies, then fades.

I stand up and look at Mick who is now corporeal.

Not to forget immortal.

And so am I.

Mick looks at me and I give him a nod, then a smile, placing a hand on his arm.

"Welcome back, Mick." I say and he looks at himself again before looking at me with a bit of uncertainty.

"Are you sure?" He asks and I frown at him.

"Shall I use this hammer to prove it?" I ask, raising it, getting a warning stare, like an affirmation would have sufficed. "Trust me, you're good. You're great, in fact." I say and put the hammer back in the trunk.

"Good." Mick says, fixing his clothes a little. "Can I have the keys?" He asks, which I know is just an order. I close the trunk and arch my eyebrow at him.

"And just what do you have in mind?" I ask and he looks at me, a little impatient.

"To go back and kill them." Mick says, that impatience quickly revealed in his tone of voice.

"Um, no. That's a suicide mission. Ketch is out of your league and you can't just go in guns blazing. This is something that's way above Hess and Ketch." I say and he stares at me defiantly.

"They killed me." He says and I'm pretty sure I can show my impatience now, since he's not traumatized anymore.

"I had no clue. Thanks for letting me know." I reply and he frowns, not appreciating my sarcasm. "I know, Mick, and I'm sorry. They're assholes and you're a great guy. I can't imagine the rage and I don't blame you, but you are now two steps ahead of them. You'll want to stay that way." I say and we stare at each other like a battle of wills.

Ha! Good luck with that. I've been told I have a strong will.

"What do you propose to do, then?" He asks, more sarcastic than anything.

"Get in the car." I say, watching him sort of surrender and go around the front of the car to get to the passenger side. I unlock the doors and get behind the wheel. He might be a free man now, but he still takes orders pretty well.

The drive is heavily silent. And it's going to be a long drive.

I'm pretty sure Mick is not happy with me. Whatever he thought of me at first he must now think was all misleading. I wish I knew what he was thinking so I can correct him. And since I'm wishing, I also wish I could see his future.

Apparently, once Mick became immortal, I couldn't see his future. Clotho didn't tell me anything, so I imagine that means I'm right; Fates can't do shit to immortals. I'm not sure why, probably because like Clotho said, his spirit becomes his body and there's no soul, so no death.

 _Yes, you are right. However, I should mention that being immortal isn't superhuman. He is still very human, but he cannot die and cannot age._

So, an eternity of getting hurt in fights, if he does fight. An eternity of indigestion after spicy foods, if he likes that. And God forbid he catches a sexually transmitted infection.

 _Celeste._

Oh, you sounded just like my mother. Why didn't you tell me any of this before?

 _It doesn't matter much. He's immortal. The Moirai are immortal. Everyone is happy._

Seriously? Everyone is happy? And I'll have you know that this immortal deal is like being sold on a Mustang, only to discover you're not getting the newer model, but the 1985 model.

 _Consider it the joys of humanity._

From someone who has never been human.

 _I have experienced it through my vessels._

"Are you alright?" Mick asks and I quickly glance at him, a little caught off guard. Yeah, I've been speaking more to Clotho, (or should I say myself in order to humour Clotho's ideology of she's me and I'm her) more than I've been speaking with Mick at the moment.

He stares at me, his expression a little hard to read and I don't mean because it's night. This car has so much new technology that I can see his face perfectly.

"Yes. Why?" I ask and he continues to stare.

"You had a slight twitch to your eye and just a moment ago, a twitch in your hand." He replies, looking at my hands on the steering wheel. So he's worried I'm not fit enough to drive. Well, we can't die, so we're good.

But how would we do with broken necks?

 _You heal._

Oh, that's good to know. Super healing for the non-super humans.

Mick continues to stare and I know my silence isn't really helping. He can take it as a sign that I'm not concerned, but he probably would like an answer.

"Just tired. Spells can be exhausting, you know." I say, which doesn't seem to help. Well, I wasn't telling him that I'm talking to the voice in my head.

"Let me drive." He says, his voice reminding me of the first time we spoke together. I look at him and his expression is the same. Mick is back to how I like him: not impatient and moody. "I'm not trying to trick you. I don't want you to fall asleep." He adds and I sort of expect him to add humour to that, like _at least not with me as the passenger,_ but he doesn't.

I give it some thought, then pull over just to make him feel better. I put it in park and we get out. I front of the car, blinded by the headlights, I feel Mick take my arm and then swing around me as he guides me to the passenger side. He opens the door for me and stays as I get in, closing the door for me as well.

Perfect gentleman.

I watch as he walks around and climbs into the driver's seat, putting the car in drive and leaving the side of the highway. I kinda like to watch him drive. He looks so good, like a model driving an expensive car for a _eau de toilet_ commercial. Move aside Mathew McConaughey.

I relax and can totally feel myself ready for a little bit of sleep. So I settle in and make sure that I can always open my eyes to look at him.


	22. Chapter 22

I open my eyes and it's like I just snoozed for five minutes. I mean drift into sleep, but not completely. Snooze makes it sound like I snored and drooled.

Mick keeps his eyes on the road and maintains his speed at the speed limit, which I'm guessing is 70 miles per hour. He's exactly the guy to take home to meet your parents. If I had my parents here. My family is back in the other world. I haven't thought much about them and I should probably miss them. One would expect foolishness if they hear me say that I don't miss my family, that I like being a Fate and I like being with Mick. I don't care if it does sound foolish.

This is my destiny and I know that sounds cliché, but I'm meant to be Clotho.

Mick glances over at me, checking on me.

"Can't sleep?" He asks and I give what probably is a sleepy smile.

"Can anyone?" I ask and the corner of his lips twitch. I'd like to think we're back to how we first interacted with each other, but I know there's no really achieving that again.

"You can lower the seat." He says, as if I didn't already know that.

"Nah, since I took driver's education in high school, I can't seem to sleep while the vehicle is in motion. I could barely relax like this at the best of times." I reply and he glances at me again quickly with a slight smile. Maybe he wants to hear more about me. I don't know. For all I know, he probably doesn't think of me as being human after I told him I'm a Fate.

"And you can now?" He asks and I smile.

"You're a good driver. I trust you." I reply, totally not telling him that I can relax because if we get into an accident and break some bones, we'll just heal and walk away. It's a really good reason to relax.

Mick continues driving without saying anything. He doesn't even suggest staying at a hotel, which would have made me happy. Probably would have made him uncomfortable. Maybe he's quiet because I say good things about him. Maybe he didn't get that much. Well, I know he didn't get that much, as I can see his past still. Poor Micky. But maybe he likes that I'm so sweet on him. Fuck, I hope so or I'm a dog barking up the wrong tree.

I never got that expression.

Anyway, so far I told him that he's a great guy, he's deserving and I trust him. That with the obvious flirting the other night, he's gotta be figuring out that I like him.

Or he can be the total shy guy that denies it and brushes it off.

My luck, that's probably what he's doing.

The sun rises up and there's no relaxing there, not with the sun in your face here and there. Plus, we're almost at the bunker where I prepare for some pretty bad shit about to happen. I left Amelia and Lindsey with sigils carved on their arms, the Moirai bound to us. They are going to hate me and I know it.

And Mick? He's no doubt going to hear this conflict and what is he going to think?

More importantly, how am I going to tell him that he's immortal? He's going to be upset, as Clotho had said it's something that sounds great at first, but then you realize it's not so great. Especially if being immortal doesn't save you from all the things you don't like to do.

I glance over at Mick, wondering how he's not tired; he drove all of the night. Surely he has to be exhausted.

"Why don't we switch?" I ask and he glances over at me, like I had asked some stupid Jeopardy question. "You've been driving this whole time. I'm sure you're tired." I add and he looks back at the road as if to consider this strange idea. That or self-evaluate his level of fatigue. "Just pull over, Mick." I order and he glances at me again, not looking so pleased at my tone. I, on the other hand, look at him in the same manner.

He eventually pulls over, but he doesn't seem happy about it.

"I'm fine." He says and I climb out of the car anyway. He doesn't move, not even when I open his door and stand there, arms crossed over my chest. He unbuckled his seatbelt and climbs out, standing in front of me, just staring at me. Oh, he's not happy. "Are you always this way?" He asks and I give a half grin.

"I could ask you the same thing." I say and he reluctantly walks around me to the passenger side. I get in and once we're buckled, take off.

"I can't figure you out." He says after a stretching minute of staring at me in silence.

"Isn't that a good thing?" I ask with a grin, keeping my eyes on the road.

"Not from my experience." He replies and I bite back a smart-ass remark, as in _Are we talking strangers or women?_ See how that wouldn't have been a good idea? "You were nice. A bit too flirtatious, but nice." He adds, going on, making me stammer.

" _Too_ flirtatious?" I mumble.

"You were really kind, profound, and then you appear to be completely different than what you made yourself to be." He says and I gasp, stunned.

"What?" I ask, looking over at him, frowning.

"Just who are you? A Fate or the woman with whom I was speaking to the other night?" He asks and I look back at the road, my hands curling around the steering wheel tighter, gripping the leather with frustration.

"Oh, like you and I are so different." I nearly hiss.

"We are." He replies and I laugh sarcastically.

"You didn't even know who to be anymore, and yet you tried to be what everyone – yourself included – thought you to be. And I'm different?" I ask and before he can reply, mouth open, I cut him off. "I'll have you know, Mick, that I am still the person who had a drink with you. Being a Fate tends to make you feel like you have dual personalities." I conclude, giving him a sharp glare as he maintains this put-off stare at me.

"Then please pick one." He says and I pull the car over to the side, calmly and once we come to a stop, I put it in park and look at him with cold eyes.

"Pick one?" I ask with the same chill in my tone of voice. "Pick a personality? Which one do you prefer, Mick? The slut or the stranger who saved your fucking ass?" I ask and in that small moment of rage, I see his face go blank as he stares at me, into my eyes. I'd like to think that he's shocked at my chilling calm anger, but he stares at me as if in bewilderment, like he isn't even listening.

"Celeste." He says, adjusting his tone to sound more gentle. "I apologize." He says and I stare at him without a flicker of change in my expression. "It was quite insensitive of me. Please allow me to rephrase." He adds with this softness in his eyes that makes me climb off my bitch stool.

"Fine." I reply dryly, not completely off my bitch stool.

"I realize you knew more than you let on, working an angle to save me. However, I feel as though you know much about me, but I know very little about you. I've seen this very charming woman, then I see this strong character that has the power to resurrect me for reasons I still cannot fathom. Seeing you now, I feel as though you are still discovering who you are, considering what you can do." He says and I continue to stare coldly for a moment, then look away, getting off my bitch stool and pushing it away.

"That's better." I reply, nearly in a mumble. I glance at Mick who stares at me with this sense of remorse. I look away again and sigh.

The only way to understand a story is from beginning to end.

So, here we go.


	23. Chapter 23

I told Mick everything, except the carving of the sigil in our arms to bind the essences of the Moirai to us. I'm not stupid, I know that's just going to ruin the moment at this moment. Plus, I know once we get to the bunker, it's going to explode in my face, so might as well make the best of it now.

By not telling him about it.

I told him of my world, of how we got here and what I've learnt from Clotho. No little detail spared. I sort of expected him to think I'm crazy, but he looked at me the entire time, paying attention and comprehending every word I said.

I find I can't stay mad at the cute bugger. He's such a good listener.

"That's me in a nutshell." I conclude with a small grin. "Literally." I add and he nods for a brief second of silence.

"You chose to accept the Moirai?" He asks and I nod, seeing his concern, but not really understanding it. "It manipulates you, changes your life, controls it. You have to do what it wants. You aren't even yourself anymore. Not completely, you have to be someone else, no choice in the matter, you can't go back home." He adds and I see that as being Amelia and Lindsey's point of view. They did something dumb, getting a little fangirl kick out of it, but to accept the Moirai is a level of danger they didn't ask for. They were played for fools and now...

I'm just as bad as the Moirai who tricked them. No, I'm worst because I carved the damn sigil on them.

"You're just a vessel. Who you are and who you could have been doesn't matter to the Moirai, as long as you serve your purpose which is to let them live on." Mick adds and I just stare at him, letting it sink in.

Makes sense. Besides the part where – is it just me, but does Mick think I didn't have a choice in resurrecting him? Because that was all me. Purely desire, baby!

"I get it Mick, but that's not how I felt. It's hard to explain, but it just feels right. And I do have control, freedom, choices. It's not taking over me. It's becoming a part of me. _Me_. Not the other way around." I reply and he gives a slow nod, like he's understanding my point of view too, although he doesn't like it.

With a small moment of silence, I put the car into drive and continue, certain our conversation is over.

Fuck, we're almost there. Within the hour we should be at the bunker. I need a distraction.

No, not to avoid the bunker. A distraction for my mind.

"Since I shared my story, why don't you share yours?" I ask and Mick glances over at me with this little sarcastic look on his face.

"Don't you already know my story?" He asks and I grin. Good point.

"Humour me, Mick." I reply, keeping my eyes on the road, but watching out of the corner of my eye as he looks out the window. I guess I want to see how much he's going to share with me.

"There isn't much to say. I was an orphan who grew up with a need to steal. I was good at pickpocketing. I could steal a pocket watch without any suspicion." Mick says, seemingly a little distant. Poor Micky baby. I could just cuddle up to him. "The day I stole that cursed coin, I thought my life was over. It made me ill. Deathly ill. The Men of Letters helped and I thought I owed them my life. That's exactly what they took and I never saw how cold they could be. They were cold and emotionless. Everything was a test and God so help you if you didn't pass. You had to strive to be the best." He adds and then falls silent for a brief moment. "And that forces you to kill your best friend. That's what they do; find something you like and use it against you as the final test. They don't want a human being. Humans are flawed. They want flawless perfection. They want blind obedience." He adds and I can hear some resentment, probably reaching that anger for Ketch.

"Ironically, their ideology is far from perfect." I say and he does this murmured agreement, remaining silent. "I'm sorry." I add and he glances over at me, stumped at why I would apologize. "No kid should have gone through that. Child development is precious." I conclude, oddly not being able to say something a bit more personalized to him. I want to heal those wounds for him, but I can't. Not even the Moirai can change the past. And, as cruel as this sounds, if given the power to change his past, would I want to? Our past makes us who we are today and I like him as he is, even a little damaged.

Hell, I'm damaged too. Well, maybe not, but I'm not exactly sane.

"Thank you." Mick eventually replies, kinda like he didn't know what to say because... child development is precious? Yeah, I totally feel his pain.

"We'll figure something out to stop them." I say and he just stares at me.

"The Men of Letters? Do you have any idea what they are capable of? You should. You witnessed it." He replies, referring to his own death. Harsh. So is the look he gives me.

"And you know them better than anyone." I reply and he remains silent, just staring at me as I drive. "You know the system, the tools, the locations. You have the advantage of being alive. You know some hunters with high and low connections, speaking of Heaven and Hell here. You know a woman with some killer charm and I know two others with not nearly as much charm." I add and glance at him with a slight smile that doesn't change his facial expression. Um, not convinced, I see. "The element of surprise never gets old, Mick. Cut them off at the knees. Go for the head and the body falls. I'm running out of things to say." I add, keeping this tone of enthusiasm that makes me somewhat smirk despite his grumpy mood.

"We don't have the numbers. They have the training and the tools." He replies, looking out the window.

"I can't stress enough the connections you have at your disposal." I say and he glances over at me, doubtful. "Castiel isn't a strong angel, but he can fight. Crowley, King of Hell, isn't a team player, but make a deal and he's there. Plus, Lucifer is his sock puppet, despite the demons fearfully being loyal to Lucifer. Crowley's mother, Rowena the witch, is pretty badass if given a special book the Winchesters possess that they won't give her, but that she total deserves. And speaking of the brothers, they don't stay dead, and that's not with the help of the Moirai!" I say and his stare on me remains doubtful. "And need I say you have the Moirai? Or at least me." I conclude and he shifts, ready to point out my blindsides.

"The Men of Letters have things for angels and demons. I do not recommend making a deal with the King of Hell. I do not recommend using Lucifer. I do not trust the help of a witch, besides the Men of Letters have things for her too. The Winchesters can be out numbered and no amount of their friends can handle the Men of Letters." He says and I wait for him to say something about me. "Which leaves you and I." He concludes and I wait for the shoe to drop. "You are not Wonder Woman. You could not handle their men all at once." He adds and I glance over at him unappreciative. "However." He says and I arch an eyebrow, surprised to hear that. "Since you seem to know everyone and everything, that might be a great advantage for a trap that guarantees success." He concludes and I smile at him.

"So, I'm better than Wonder Woman?" I ask and he reluctantly smiles sheepishly.

"Possibly, considering she doesn't exist." He replies and I sputter a laugh. I think he has the hots for Wonder Woman and the fact that she's fictional disappoints him. Should be good for me, right?

"Ah, I am better than Wonder Woman." I add, making him smile.

So, we have a plan. Once Mick gives the detail on the Men of Letters, they can be taken down and thrown into extinction. Hopefully, that will smooth over the bomb that's about to go off in my face. If I can tell Amelia and Lindsey what the Men of Letters will do to their precious Sam and Dean, they'll probably join in, full Moirai mode.

Probably.


	24. Chapter 24

We drive into the garage of the bunker, returning the car nearly empty. Oops. I'm anxious, but Mick doesn't seem to notice it, not with my seed of madness growing in his head. I think he's optimistic about destroying the Men of Letters with their flawed ideology.

We get out and I put the keys back. He walks out and makes his way down the corridor as I follow a little behind. I start digging in my heels, feeling like something isn't right. After a couple of corridors, we come to the base room and there, I stop.

"Hello boys." Mick says to Sam and Dean, happy to see them.

However, everyone looks at me. Sam, Dean, Amelia and Lindsey. They are not happy. Mick follows their gazes and looks at me with confusion, not understanding what's going on. Worst is that he sees that I know exactly what is going on.

"Explain this." Dean says and Amelia takes off the bandage on her arm, revealing a very ugly reddened sigil carved into her skin. It looks like shit, to be honest.

Mick glances over at her and then at Lindsey who reveals her own ugly reddened sigil carved arm. He stares in horror and then everyone, Mick included, look at me for an explanation.

"What did you do?" Amelia asks with rage in her voice and it's slowly showing on her face. "Look at my arm! What did you do to us?" She asks, that rage suddenly on her face, like a switch. Mick's face slowly goes from bright to grim. I think I can see his opinion of me, somewhat renewed, go down the drain again.

"Celeste." Sam says softly, but his disappointed expression says it all.

 _Chin up, Celeste. It had to be done._

So, chin up. I put my chin up and stand firm.

"It's a binding." I reply and the one person I can't predict steps up and pulls up my sleeves, looking horrified. I would like to enjoy Mick touching my arms, but he too seems disappointed to see the sigil carved into my arm. Oddly, it's looking like it's healing nicely.

"You bound the Moirai to you?" Mick asks and the girls gasp-grunt, their suspicions confirmed.

"Why?" Lindsey asks and they both stare at me with angered confusion. We were finally interacting nicely with each other. Things were looking good. Then I do this to them. I stand by what I did, but I know they are going to have a hard time with this.

All over again.

I look at Mick, feeling like I could cry any second. I look at the girls and hold my chin up.

"I had to do it." I say, which only makes it worst.

" _Had_ to do it? What the Hell does that mean?" Amelia asks, horrified. But it's Mick's calm-but-still-not-impressed tone of voice that hits me the hardest.

"Was it Clotho?" He asks, seemingly trying to go back to his theory that she controls me.

Well, it might seem that way, but it's more than that. I bound the Moirai to us for his sake. In order to save him, I had to do the binding… or else Clotho would make me insane.

Yeah… she manipulated me into getting what she wanted at the expense of what I wanted.

 _I remind you that it also works in your benefit. Mick is immortal. You are immortal._

Ah, I remember. Alright, you're off the hook, although I'm the only one who's okay with this. But I still don't know how I'm going to answer Mick's question.

 _Blame me, if you must._

No, then he thinks that I'm controlled, manipulated. I wasn't!

 _Then tell him the truth._

"Celeste, did Clotho force you to do this?" Mick asks, his hands on my arms, eyes locked with mine.

"No, but I didn't have a choice." I reply, somewhat honest because Clotho did threaten me.

"Are you kidding me?" Lindsey asks and Sam puts a hand on her arm, ready to hold her back.

"Where is our choice?" Amelia asks, standing up and Dean just watches her, like he'll only intervene when it's too late. Thanks Dean.

"What do you mean?" Sam asks softly and I know what to do, but I have a small moment of weakness and I look over at Mick. He stares at me, as if to say that I can tell them, but then he gets it. His eyes widen and his face goes blank with shock. I swear he evens leans away from me.

"It's me." He says and I look away and everyone stares at us with confusion, realizing that they're missing a chapter in the story.

"Mick?" Sam asks and it takes him a moment to look away from me and to Sam.

"Ketch killed me." He replies calmly. They stare at him as if thinking they heard wrong, but then they seem horrified. "I was killed for believing your way is the right way. Celeste resurrected me." He adds and they all stare at me, stunned.

"How?" Dean asks and I look at him with a slight itch of impatience. Mick looks at me and I feel that softness again as I stare into his eyes.

"You bound yourself, your cousin and her friend for me. Was that the cost?" He asks and I see that he's about to blame himself for this. It's not at all his fault. How can I tell him this?

"No." I say and he sharpens his stare on me.

"The binding wasn't the cost of my resurrection?" Mick asks, eliminating that theory. "Was the binding mandatory for my resurrection?" He asks and I sort of hesitate, feeling this twitch above my right eye that seems to give me away. "What did Clotho tell you?" Mick asks me, but I can't tell him.

Amelia grunts and smacks her head glaring at me. She wishes she could hit me instead.

"It's the spell she used, the only thing she could do and it's Mick who has to pay the price." She says and everyone looks at him, then at me, while Mick only looks at me with confusion.

 _Atropos is speaking to her. She cannot see Mick's future. She knows he's immortal._

"Celeste?" Mick asks me, searching my expression for a sign that Amelia is wrong. When I don't give him one, he frowns. "What price?" He asks, concerned. I have to tell him the truth.

"With your body destroyed, your spirit became corporeal." I say and he looks at me, waiting for me to tell him, but I can't. The words just won't come out.

"He's immortal." Amelia blurts harshly, glaring at me. "She bound us, making us forever vessels of the Moirai. Also immortals. _For Mick._ " She adds and Lindsey gives a sharp shake, as if trying to shake Lachesis out of her head. Sam and Dean look at me with disapproval. It's Mick's expression I'm scared to see.

"I'm immortal?" He asks me, confused, giving me a slight shake to get me to look at him. "Celeste, you had all this time to tell me. Why didn't you tell me?" He asks and I glance at the others, at how they glare at him with disapproval and disdain. I look at Mick who is clearly upset. "Were you ever going to tell me? Why did you do this to me?" He asks and it feels like the whole world is crashing on me.

I knew this was going to go badly, but I didn't expect my heart to be squeezed like this. Mick stares at me like I'm a stranger again. We spoke, understanding that he is the only one who knows what the Men of Letters are planning. He's the only one who knows them best. He's alive because he's a great guy that got a bum wrap for wanting to be better. He's alive because I care about him.

And he stares at me like all of that was a trick.

I can't take the way he's staring at me.

With disdain.

So I think of the motel I passed just in town a couple of days ago, and teleport.


	25. Chapter 25

I let myself fall to the floor in a vacant motel room, feeling like a sack of shit. I feel like a monster, a deceiver. I feel like what I have done is for my own self-interest. I feel alone, in despair. Just utterly alone.

It doesn't help that the room is pitch black.

No, it's perfect. I should stay here like this.

 _Stop feeling sorry for yourself. Get up. Do something._

I slowly get up, sort of listening to Clotho, and lock the door only to crawl into bed. I won't be able to sleep so easily after everything that just happened, but it's that need to crawl under a rock and die. I didn't want Mick to find out that way. I'm angry at Amelia for ruining it, but I guess I deserved it. But Mick didn't deserve it. Now he's in shock, knowing he's immortal and the only ones that can comfort him are the very pissed off Amelia and Lindsey and the not-so-sensitive-at-the-moment Winchesters because they're mad at me too.

See? I'm a monster. I'm a bitch. I'm the bitch who played God and left Mick to live with eternity.

 _Celeste, you are too hard on yourself._

And you made me do it!

 _I gave you the power to do what had to be done. I know it sounds selfish of me to ask that you bind yourselves to the Moirai, but it is important. Our vessels die and that was before something as powerful as Lucifer and his Nephilim child were a problem. Plus, Mick can't be the only immortal. Look at Dorian Grey. That didn't pan out so well._

Dorian Grey isn't real.

 _But Mick is._

Mick probably doesn't want to talk to me anyway, angry that I brought him back just to endure more crap from the Men of Letters, his life taken away like he claimed mine to be by the Moirai. I also took a choice away from him. And he's probably appalled at what I did to the girls, to myself. He's probably wondering why.

Why to everything.

 _In time, he will seek you._

Yeah right!

I bury my head in the pillow, just wanting to sleep and never wake up. I wonder if this was all a mistake, although a part of me still feels like it was right. Despite the shit, I don't seem to regret any of it. I just feel shitty about myself.

Figure that fucking shit out.

In a moment, all sleepy darkness shifts. It's a ruined temple out on the pond that looks like poison struck every plant and is slowly killing everything. Even the air, filled with fog and stink, seems to be poisoned. The sky is dark and starless, which seems strange to me.

I stand all alone in this place looking at the temple on the pond. It looks sad, like it wants to be renewed and made pretty again. It wants the plants to grow again and for the sun to shine. It seems to beg me for help, to break the curse.

If ruined temples could talk, it would say fucking kill whatever is poisoning this once beautiful place.

"You are the Moirai in the twenty-first Century. My, you are powerful. I see you did the binding. Clever girl." Says a female voice I know doesn't belong to me. I glance around and see no one. The voice just echoes all around.

"Show yourself." I demand and she laughs.

"Oh, so strong. You make a fine Clotho. The others weren't as strong as you." She replies and I wait, knowing she's playing a game with me that I refuse to play. "Have we gone silent? Why?" She asks me.

"Get to the point and I'll converse with you, otherwise you can have fun talking to yourself." I reply and she gives a low rumble type of laugh. Find that amusing? Keep pissing me off…

"I am the seer. I imagine you know what a seer is." She replies and I stay silent, not bothering to answer that. "Look into the water." She says and I reluctantly go towards the pond, seeing a glow ripple on the water. It shimmers and then I see a huge white building with people walking, all in white, escorting people who's behaviour is hiding well enough their instability. It reminds me of _Girl, Interrupted._ Damn that's a good movie. "This is where you'll find me." The voice says and I frown at it.

"Just where is this?" I ask, not knowing if this is a hospital or home for special people. I don't know. I don't like it.

"Pembroke's Home for the Mentally Ill." She replies and I quickly stop any intention of laughing. This voice is in the looney bin? That's funny. If the voice is in the looney bin, shouldn't the person hearing it be too?

All joking aside, that's where I should be, although I know I'm not crazy. Although I'm hearing voices and seeing ruined temples and bringing people back from the dead with spells and calling myself a Fate. I am crazy.

"And why am I going to find you?" I ask my invisible visitor.

"Because I know where to find the book." She says and I sort of freeze, knowing exactly what book. The book the Moirai used rather than thread. Atropos had it and when she died, the book was lost. Clotho said it was destroyed. How can this nutcase say she knows where it is if a Fate says it was destroyed? I sense a trap, a total trap. "Yes, I thought you'd like to know." She adds and based on that tone, I know she's not telling me this to be nice, if she's right. She wants something in return.

"What's the catch?" I ask her and she's silent for a brief moment.

"I'll tell you when you get here." She replies and I cross my arms over my chest, standing my ground.

"Like Hell. You'll tell me now." I reply and she remains silent for a brief moment.

"I want you to do me a favour." She says rather easily. Ah, she needs me more than I need her. Figures. "I'm old and I'd like to regain a few years." She replies and I roll my eyes, not sure how the Hell I'd manage that, but I have to humour the old bitch. "I know many spells. I can tell you. I can even tell you spells you want to know, perhaps concerning the other two. Lachesis and Atropos." She adds, as if knowing my deep inner thoughts and desires. She offers that like a blood soaked cloth over a shark's nose.

I got over the idea of taking in all three Fates, because Clotho made it clear that she would like her own space. However, it would be easier if I could just be all three Fates. Amelia and Lindsey would be free and they wouldn't have a reason to hate me.

It's perfect, despite the fact I don't know what's the procedure for a spell like that. I can't imagine it being harmless.

"What's the address?" I ask and she snickers, reminding me of the typical evil character with the evil laugh, planning something wicked for the helpless and naive damsel.

Yeah, fuck the helpless and naïve damsel. I know what the Hell I'm doing.

"You can find me without it, girl." She says and everything fades.

I wake up, eyes shooting open in bed, feeling invigorated. Although I don't really like the sound of this seer, things might just turn around.

However, I doubt it'll work out for Mick and me. Well, I doubt anything working, but isn't this rock bottom? The worst is can ever be? Why not, right?

I look at the alarm clock glowing shortly after two in the morning. I need a bit more sleep before I go off into the unknown for some crazy old bat. I might be immortal, but I need my sleep!


	26. Chapter 26

I wake up, again, at eleven in the morning. It's so good to sleep in a little. I smooth out my clothes, then brush my hands through my hair. I go into the bathroom, because I have to pee, but mostly because I need the mirror for scrying. I need to know exactly where to go.

After peeing like a horse, holy shit, I concentrate on the mental institution that I saw in my dream. I look at my reflection, first thinking of how pretty I am even if I look like total shit, secondly focusing with my mind's eyes. I see it forming and then I seem to know exactly where to find this hospital. As I'm about to let it fade, I see a glimmer and then my mind realizes it's my reflection. With my mind distracted, the scrying ends and I nearly gasp to see this strangeness in my eyes. It seems ancient and powerful.

It's the eyes of the Moirai.

It strikes me that whenever Mick stares at me oddly, this is probably why. He saw the power in my eyes. Any time someone seemed to look at me differently, it was the expression in my eyes, the centuries-old power inside me.

Creepy, but cool.

My eyes fade back to normal and I smile. This makes me feel damn good after feeling like total shit.

I walk out of the motel room, sort of erasing any sign that I was here. Then, I teleport.

Standing in front of the hospital, I do not feel excited like I would be watching _Girl, Interrupted_. This has a creepy do-not-enter vibe. Somehow, I know this isn't good.

 _You'd be right. Something is off._

I know, thanks for believing in me.

 _I do, which is why I confirmed it._

Not how it came across.

Anyway, this isn't looking good, but there's opportunities here. The seer is in there, I vaguely got a Tricia Brown in my dream and my scrying, although I'm not sure. I vaguely saw her in there, but it wasn't clear.

 _If you're Hellbent on finding her, may I suggest committing yourself? They won't let you wander around, unless you're a patient._

Oh, great plan. Let's commit me! Why not? I'm crazy, aren't I?

 _You'll do fine._

Is there a day you'll ever stop talking?

 _Probably not._

So, I walk up to the place, open the door and walk through the lobby to the secretary's desk. She looks miserable. One glance at her and I see she's a total wallflower. A total nerd, top of her class, but rather than change the world with her strong character, she turned to doing what the guys around her told her to do.

Sad woman.

I walk up to her and her eyes lift up to me as she's talking on the phone, or should I say listening. Her stare is cold, warning me from bugging her. I smile and her stare continues.

"We'll be waiting." She replies, hanging up the phone and writes in her book, jotting down that some poor loser is getting themselves thrown into the looney bin. It's not an essay she's writing, but she is definitely making me wait.

"Hello." I say and her eyes lift up at me again, irritated. "I'm looking for a friend." I add and the secretary, Johanna Miles, doesn't even blink.

"There is a process to follow, Ma'am. You cannot simply walk in and visit your friend." She says and I laugh, making her glare.

"Ah, no. I'm not visiting. I'm looking to book my stay." I say and she frowns at me, confused. "I can check myself in, right?" I ask and glance around with a slight grin. "Or is this for the criminally crazy? In that case, just pretend I got lost." I add and smile innocently. She continues to stare oddly at me, but she lifts the receiver and waits.

"We have a young woman who wishes to commit herself." She says, unblinking. It's amazing how she can do that. She must be the champion of the staring contest. "She is serious." She adds and I let out a little excited squeak.

"Deathly serious." I say and her eyes widen a little. She hangs up the phone and takes out some forms from her drawer.

"You'll have to sign these. A doctor will be up shortly." She says and I take the forms, reading them as she gives me a pen, staring at me oddly. I have a quick glance, seeing that as a voluntary patient I can come, but I can't go as I please. They can hold me involuntarily, a maximum of 24 hours apparently, if they find my treatment isn't complete. Despite the fact that I do have a say in my treatment, once the 24 hours are up, they can have me examined again and sign some papers, keeping me for as long as they like, if that's what they think is the best for me.

Uh, why do I care? I can fucking leave whenever I want! Teleportation, baby.

I sign my name on all the lines and slide it over to the secretary just as this middle-aged guy steps out of an elevator. His wire-rimmed glasses make him look nice, but he's a tough nut. He's the type of guy you think will be on your side, but won't be when you need him most. He'll be the guy signing your death warrant.

"Hello. I'm Dr. Frederick." He says, extending his hand. I take it and smile charmingly, pretending I don't know he's a total douchebag.

"Celeste Armstrong." I reply and he looks at me, as if wondering what could possibly be wrong with me. Oh, this should be of some fun.

"We can speak in my office." He says and I follow him to the elevator. He lets me in first, the papers I had signed in his hands, and then presses the button for the second floor. The doors open and we step out into a corridor with paintings to sort of make you forget you're in the looney bin.

He turns the doorknob of his office and steps in, gesturing me to sit in one of the chairs in front of his desk. We sit, awkwardly in silence, and he stares at me like I'm a new toy. I sort of glare at him and he smiles, finally getting the examination started.

"Tell me about yourself." He says and I maintain my glare but answer him anyway.

"I had a pathetic job, a lousy apartment and a moronic cousin with her idiot friend. My life wasn't perfect and I didn't like it much, but it really sucked." I begin and he seems accepting enough, until he frowns a little at my lack of logic. "My life now is way more fun. My cousin and her friend did a spell that brings us from our world to your world. At first, it was crazy." I say and then mock shame, covering my mouth with one hand. "Can I say crazy in here?" I ask and he gives me a slight smile.

"No." He replies and I smile innocently.

"Well, I thought it was crazy." I say anyway because I do that; you say no, I'll do it anyway. "These guys who were characters are real. And the kick of it all? I'm a Fate." I add with a bright smile that makes him just nod. Yup, I'm going with the delusion of grandeur, mostly because it's what he sees it to be: a delusion that I'm this all so powerful Goddess. Oh, it's about to get better. "At first, I thought I was crazy, but then I saw that one guy was going to die due to fatty foods and masturbation. Then I figured I can change the fate of someone by will. Not so easy to do when they're dead. That takes more magic. So I did. Resurrected a guy who got shot in the head." I conclude and Dr. Frederick quickly jolts down some notes about my delusion of grandeur. "So, do you like Doctor Who?" I ask, seeing that he actually went to a Doctor Who convention because he wanted to be mistaken as one of the Doctors so he could get laid by some desperate fan… as his wife doesn't do anything kinky with his cock.

The convention ended in disappointment for the good old Doc.

"This is about you, Celeste." He replies softly.

"Okay." I say with a smile. "Did I tell you about Clotho? She's cool. She started talking shortly after I got into this world. She talks to me all the time. She didn't want me to come here. I guess that's why I'm getting the silent treatment." I add with a grin, finding some humour in that. Apparently, he doesn't. Well, I just mentioned hallucinations. That's two out of five symptoms of schizophrenia.

I have to admit, I did a little research back in high school as part of my psychology class because that's what I thought Britney Spears had at the time. Nothing like teenagers diagnosing celebrities.

I know the other three symptoms, but I think I shot those ones in the face, since I'm on topic, smiling and clean. Oh well, two should be good enough.

"Do you consume alcohol or take medications?" Dr. Frederick asks and I smile sheepishly.

"Only with my new friends, like all the time, but never in the same half-hour." I reply with a grin and he continues making notes.

Yup, I'm definitely in.

 **Author's Note** : I do not mean to offend anyone with or who knows someone with mental illnesses. If you suffer with a mental illness, know that you do not have to suffer in silence, as you'll find most people aren't dicks.


	27. Chapter 27

I'm given a white t-shirt, white pants and white shoes. I'm also given a room on the first floor, in the West Wing. I'm also introduced to my roommate, Emily. Apparently, she hears voices too, thinking people are recording her in the bathroom. So, Dr. Frederick decides to stick the two delusional and hallucinating schizophrenic patients together.

It's kinda like _Girl, Interrupted._ There's a common room so we can socialize and watch television that doesn't have any good channels. There's games like checkers and cards, but not much. Down the hall, there's a cafeteria where we don't have a choice in what we eat, where the food tastes bland and it's been frozen like a year ago. There's a small station where we take our medication at certain times and then we apparently go to bed promptly at eight. We are to go straight to bed as nurses do check-ins. There isn't much privacy in our rooms. You get dressed and come out, then get into pyjamas and go to bed. Each room has a bathroom, but showers are communal and supervised.

Fuck. What did I get myself into? It's like prison minus the ass-fucking!

And the seer? I haven't seen her on my little tour. Must be in isolation. Apparently, those in isolation are there for a while because they have lashed out at others. It's like a punishment and they are closely monitored.

Fuck.

I'm left in the common room, sitting on the couch next to my roommate Emily who seems suspicious of me. I can see that she suffers with hearing and seeing things that aren't there. She also began getting paranoid since high school. She feared being cornered in the bathroom and mean girls actually recorded her as she peed, showing the whole school. That didn't help. Posting pictures of her from over the stalls as she relieved herself was what broke her; all the damn bullying.

The poor girl is frightened, mostly of herself for some strange reason.

"Hi, Emily." I say and she looks away from me, shy, even trembling a little. She hasn't gotten along with others in the past. They got upset with her and it made her even more reserved. "I know we've been introduced, but I want to introduce myself." I say and she wants to look at me, but her nerves won't let her. "I'm Celeste." I add and she slowly looks at my smile.

"You hear them too?" She asks and I shake my head a little, so she looks away from me, getting tense as if she's trying to make herself small.

"I hear my own voice." I say and she looks at me oddly, which makes me grin. Emily looks at me like I'm crazy. "I hear Clotho, because she's in me. We are one." I say and she continues to stare at me strangely, until I start to focus, knowing that I can get that ancient expression in my eyes. Then, her eyes widen as she looks at me and I know that my eyes are those of Clotho. "Don't be afraid of me. I'm here to see the seer. Her name is Tricia." I add and she quickly looks away, scared. "Did she hurt you?" I ask and she nods, keeping her gaze away from me. "I won't let her hurt you." I say and she glances at me again, her eyes hard.

"No, you can't. She's too strong. They fear her." Emily replies, referring to the voices in her head, but equally the other patients I assume. Apparently, Tricia has a habit of being a terrifying bitch. To get what she wants, she hurts others either physically or magically. It's no wonder she's isolated.

"Emily." I say, getting her to look into my eyes, my powerful eyes. "She wants something from me, so she'll have to stop hurting my friends or I won't give it to her." I add and she keeps staring at me, a little skeptical.

"Are you sure?" She asks me and I reach out to her, lightly touching her arm. She trembles at first, but then she seems to relax, looking at me and seeing that I'm not a threat, as powerful as I am.

"I'm strong too." I reply and she slowly gives me a sheepish smile.

A nurse walks into the common room, her face solid with irritation.

"Medicine." She shouts and some patients make their way to the station. Those that aren't as quick get a glare from her. Jill is a mean woman. She has strict rules and God forbid you don't live by them. She looks over at me, one of the last ones that doesn't have to be pushed in a wheelchair over to the station. She glares at me as I get in line and everyone notices, but tries not to watch. "You're new here, so I'll remind you that next time, you are to get up and get in line." She says and I give her a slight smirk.

"I am in line." I reply, which makes her narrow her eyes at me.

"I will not tolerate that attitude." She says and I can see that she had punished some patients for talking back. This one too is a bitch. Well, one day she will have a stroke that leaves her in a wheelchair. How do I know? I'm making it her fate and she seems to know that I'm thinking something sinister, because she approaches me, getting in my space. "Try me." She says and I smile. Yup, definitely gonna get a taste of what it's like to suffer at the hands of a mean nurse.

"You first." I whisper to her and back up, out from her face because, not only does her breath smell like old cheese, but it shows that I'm not the one that is threatening at the moment. She is.

She watches me as I take my medication and I go to return to the couch, but she gets in my space again. Before she speaks, I open my mouth and move my tongue to prove that I have taken my damn pills. She nods, approving my submission, and leaves.

I sit on the couch again, next to Emily who looks over at me. I start to gag and then I look at her with a smile. She seems worried, but when she sees me slightly stick out my tongue, my medication clearly not swallowed, she gives me a slight smile.

I quickly take my pill out of my mouth and hide it in the couch, pushing it deep in between the cushions.

"You're not like us." Emily says softly. I look at her and smile. However, it's sad. As I look at her, I see she often had meltdowns. She wedged herself into corners, smacking her head, trying to make the voices stop, the hallucinations vanish. She couldn't just focus and see reality, not even with a doctor telling her nothing she was experiencing was real.

Morons. Everything she was experiencing was real to her. The voices were loud, the sights too horrifying. You can't just convince her that all her Hell was just self-created illusions to slowly kill herself.

As I glimpse into her past, it makes me think if Amelia and Lindsey will end up like this. They didn't ask to be bound to the Moirai just like Emily didn't ask to be schizophrenic. There's nothing fun about what she has to live with. There's nothing fun about what I've done.

"No, Emily. I'm not like you girls." I say and glance around the common room, seeing some of them distant, just existing. This isn't living. It's surviving. Barely. They didn't have choices. Amelia and Lindsey didn't.

I did and look what I did.

"I've accepted what I am and I love it." I add and look at her, seeing her stare at me with curiosity. Do I believe my own words? It seems that she doesn't feel convinced. Damn, I don't think I am either.

"Just what are you?" She asks me and I'm not sure I want to tell her. Just how much can she handle about me? Will she even believe me?

"Your friend." I say and she smiles coyly.

It's a bitch to be told to go to bed at eight. Of all the things that sucks about this place, it's the forced bedtime. And the food. There's really only one nice thing about the evening and that's Jordan, the only male nurse that works in the West Wing. He's gay, but nice to look at.

Yeah, I miss Mick.

I crawl into bed as Jordan checks into our room. He gives me a slight smile and closes the door. Emily lies in her bed, looking at me.

"If we talk during the night and Jill finds out, we'll be separated." She whispers and I lay my head on the pillow, oddly wishing I could speak telepathically. I give her a small smile as she turns over, clearly trained to obey Jill's strict rules.

"Goodnight." I whisper and close my eyes, also wishing I could scry with just my eyes closed. There aren't any mirrors around. I'd like to be able to see Mick. I'd like to know if he's still upset, to know what he thinks of me. I wish I could speak to him, but the damage might already be too deep to fix. He might never want to talk to me again after making him immortal and not telling him about it.

And the girls? Amelia and Lindsey? They must be pissed still. The Winchesters and Mick must still be shocked at what I have done and why. It's probably something that won't go away. The hatred, I mean.

I look at my arm, seeing that the sigil is quickly fading. The nurses noticed it and told Dr. Frederick. I know they did. They don't know that I know. They don't know what it means and probably never will, but I better be able to see Tricia soon so I can get the fuck out of here. First chance I get, I'm teleporting out.

I glance over at Emily and feel a twinge of guilt.

And what happens to her? There has to be something I can do for her.

As I look into her future, it's unclear. It's odd that I can't see it well, but I think that it hints to something that I might not want to know.

Because something happens and I might be the cause of it.


	28. Chapter 28

I'm sitting at the kitchen table of my suburbs home with a cup of coffee in one hand and the newspaper in the other, ready to turn the page. Mick comes down the stairs, fixing his black suit jacket over his white shirt, stepping down into the kitchen. He smiles and kisses the forehead of our four year old daughter who looks up from her chair, eating her dry fruit loops. He moves over to our two year old son in his highchair and kisses his forehead too. Our son makes this happy sound as he looks up at his father.

I smile at him as he makes his way to me, a kiss for my lips. His hands cup the back of my head, our daughter giggling, and we instantly go from the kitchen to our queen sized bed, wrapped in our Egyptian cotton sheets as we shift and grind against each other. His lips never leave mine and neither do his hands from my body. Every touch on my skins leaves me tingling, makes me feel so fucking alive, even more so as he thrusts against me, going deeper inside of me in the way I like most; hitting my g-spot.

My body pulses as I reach my climax, ready for my wonderful orgasm. I grip the back of his head, keeping our kiss alive with passion and arch my back as to press my pelvis against his. I'm getting the most out of this before that orgasm.

He is the love of my life.

An excellent lover, a great husband and a wonderful father.

It's up bright and early. Another reason why this place sucks. Not just that it's six in the morning, but because I was having a fucking great dream of sex with Mick, a life with Mick, and my damn wake up call ruined it.

Damn, I even had kids with Mick!

Why is it I dream of having sex with hot guys, then having kids with him? First Tom Ellis, now Mick. At least I actually met Mick. Sex with him might not be possible right now, but it might be later on. Fuck, I need to get laid. Just not sure about the kids…

I sit up in bed and look over at Emily who seems to be pretty adjusted to the fucking routine. Our door is wide open and nurses walk the halls, waiting for us to get dress and get out. We can't be in our rooms during the day. What bullshit.

Once I step out, there's a young nurse, Lily, who asks us to line up for our medication. She's nice and everyone likes her. She tries to get old Jill to warm up to the patients, but her efforts are wasted. Oh, and she likes Jordan, even if he's gay. Wow, ambitious girl.

I take my medication like I did the last time, which means I don't. Emily gives me a slight smile. She takes her medication willingly, as she's tired of being tormented by her condition.

"Join me, ladies, for a short walk outside before breakfast." Young Lily says. Apparently that just means go in a large oval walk out in the back yard.

When we're out here, Emily looks up at the trees. She listens to the whistle of the breeze, the song of birds, and smiles as she feels the soft touch of the sun on her face. I can't help but notice the serenity on her face during the walk.

When we're back inside, we have our bland and boring breakfast in silence. Emily remains quiet and she becomes reserved again on the couch, ignoring Lily's encouragement to play checkers with me.

"We can look out the window." I say softly to her and she looks at me, nodding with a slight smile. Lily watches us as we go over to the window and lean against the wall.

"I like it out there." Emily says and I look at her face. "I feel free." She whispers so softly that I'm not sure it even came from her lips, that I must have imagined it. Emily glances at me, her eyes sad. "Why aren't you like us?" She asks and I'm once again not sure what to tell her. She looks around the room, mostly at the nurses that check in on some of the patients and look over some charts. Emily looks back at me, a little worry in her eyes.

"I'm not hurt by what happened to me. I embraced it." I say and Emily stares at me, as if wanting to know the whole story. "It's who I'm meant to be." I add and at that moment, a loud bang, followed by a large black blur strikes right beside us, scaring Emily, making her scream.

I back up as the nurses come to check. Emily looks over her shoulders, her eyes glazed with fear as the nurses try to calm her down. I go over to the window and look down to see a large crow, wings spread, head jerked back.

It's dead.

"It's a crow." I say and turn to Emily, her eyes meeting mine. She quickly comes over and looks down. The nurses pull me back a bit, for my own safety as she might freak out. Emily whimpers a little, seeing how it's dead.

That makes me think of folklore surrounding the crow. Some believe that when you see a crow, it means that it brings good passage and protection while others believe seeing one crow is a bad omen for death. If we chase that line of superstition, seeing two crows means good luck. Three means bad health, four means wealth, five is sickness and six is death nearby. I don't know why I remember this. Probably because I fucking love Kelley Armstrong's _Omens_ of the Cainsville Series. So fucking awesome.

But what does it mean when a crow hits your window and dies?

Most believe the crow is a messenger bird, not just associated with death. I think it depends on the folklore and your perspective. In this case, I think it brings me nothing but bad news.

I turn to Emily to see that this upsets her and she just might freak out, having to be taken out of the room. I need to calm her down and I know just the thing.

I let myself phase out a bit, willing life to enter that crow. It's easy and just as quickly, the crow twitches on the ground.

"It's not dead." I say and Emily comes to the window and gasps with relief. Up goes the crow a few seconds later into the trees, squawking and flapping it's wings. It seems to look right at me, looking pissed off.

Yup, I bring back dead things and they hate me.

"It's okay." Emily says and I softly wave off the nurses and place a hand on Emily's back. She looks at me and smiles with relief, calm. "It's not dead." She adds and the nurses leave after hovering for a little while longer, making sure Emily doesn't flip out.

We watch as the crow flies away and Emily slowly looks at me with some confusion.

"Wasn't it dead?" She asks and I give her a slight smile. "It wasn't." She adds and stares at me with suspicion. I might want to tell her the truth or she might think I'm not a friend after all, but something that can hurt her.

"It was dead, but I brought it back because it upset you. I'm a Fate, the Moirai. I can change the fate of someone." I say and she just keeps staring at me. Oh, please don't look at me like that. "I'm here for Tricia." I say and Emily just stares at me like I'm some new hope for her in a scary way, but her eyes become bright.

"To kill her?" She asks and I fight a grin.

"No. We sort of have a little deal." I reply and she scrunches up her face at me. "It's complicated." I add and glance at the others in the room. Emily is silent as we look at the other patients. I guess this means she believes me. For all I know, she's thinking I'm crazy.

"You'll be gone soon?" Emily asks and when I look over at her, I see this fear and concern on her face. I'm guessing she's afraid that her new friend will leave her behind. Yeah, I haven't know her long, but I feel like I do. The thought of leaving her makes me hate myself more.

"I'll still be here a while." I reply, but it doesn't help her fear much. She looks out the window, remaining silent. I can't comfort her because I will be leaving her behind.

Then it hits me. I remember not being able to clearly see her future. Something is supposed to happen and as I look at her, I begin to feel a little nervous. I have a bad feeling about this, like I'm about to really hate myself and there'll be no coming back from that.

It's reaching the evening and all I've done is exist throughout the day. I ate a bland and boring lunch and supper that's not even worth remembering. I played checkers with a very silent Emily, and then she watched as I played against their supposed champion, Dolores.

I let her win.

It wouldn't be very nice to beat her, crush her only accomplishment in this place, then leave after all of this is done.

There's one thing that starts to worry me as we get into the evening; how much Emily has been staring at me. I try not to acknowledge it, but I feel like a little seed of madness has been planted in her head and it grows as she stares at me. She knows I'm powerful and suddenly, I feel like I might have just placed myself in a bad place.

What if all the patients find out I'm a Fate? What if they all feel like life cheated them? What if they all want something from me? Next thing you'll know, my stay here will either be a miracle or a string of strange events.

I'm leaning towards the latter.

Pissy Jill walks in, demanding we take our medication. She watches me, certain that I'm trouble. I could raise some Hell, since I seem to recall in the forms I had signed that I can be involved in my treatment. That never happened. I never got a say in the pills I take. This hospital doesn't really give people acknowledgement of their rights, just because they're crazy. I thought society got better at that.

I thought wrong.

Emily and I go back to the couch and I gag up my pill after Jill stops staring at me. I'm sure they can tell when we're off our meds. I stuff my pill in the couch and Emily looks at me, not smiling this time, like she knows they'll eventually catch me.

She's right. So I take out all my pills from the couch and stuff them discreetly in my shoes. I'll put them down the toilet later. Eight o'clock comes fast enough.


	29. Chapter 29

The next day, after waking up without seeing Emily in our room, someone gets her ass released from isolation and that ass is the one that got me down here. The second she walks into the common room, she sends a shiver through everyone. She's a total bully and I now understand why I got this sense of something wrong when I arrived.

I should have stayed away.

Tricia stares at me like she can see into my soul. I so don't like that. She tilts her head at me, like she's analyzing me. I so don't like that either. She gets right in my personal bubble, making everyone glad she's leaving them alone.

"Figured it out yet?" She asks me and I shrug my shoulders, which makes her glare at me. "You better." She adds, with a tone of warning. Oh, scary.

"Don't you know how?" I ask and she narrows her eyes at me like I'm stupid.

"If I did, do you think I'd be waiting on you?" She asks, sort of insulted.

"You said you know a lot of spells." I reply and she sort of holds her head high, like that was a compliment. Fuck, we got a weird one here.

"I do, but not when it involves life and death. That's your department." She says and I fight the urge to roll my eyes.

"You think Clotho tells me everything?" I ask and she narrows her eyes at me again.

"She should, like my ancestors do to me." Tricia says and I don't know what the Hell that means. "The power of seers stays in the family. When one is born, they gather knowledge throughout their life from their ancestors. It's not a joy when they dump everything on you. It's too overwhelming, hence why I'm here." She adds and I nod. That's exactly what Clotho wants to avoid, me going crazy due to everything she knows. "But no, you're the previous vessel of the Moirai. They'd never give you all their knowledge. They want to keep you pretty and sane." Tricia concludes with resentment.

Yeah, someone has issues.

Then, she smiles coldly at me.

"You'll have to figure it out on your own, seeing as how you're so fucking clever." She says, sounding more like a hard stab than a compliment. Then, this twisting feeling in my gut makes me think of something horrible.

"Why did you cut my communications with Clotho?" I ask and she glares at me, like how dare I ask that question. In that moment, I realize that Tricia hates the Moirai, maybe due to the fact they don't make their vessels go crazy like her ancestors did to her. Not only does she hate them, she fears them.

She fears Clotho.

"Figure it out. Your dreams will turn into nightmares, so you better think fast." She says and walks away, scaring the other patients away from the checkers board where she plays alone.

Lily walks over to me with a folded paper, looking at Tricia with worry.

"Are you okay?" She asks me, handing me the note. I take it and smile at her.

"Yeah, just a little chat with Sunshine over there." I add and she smiles at me, like she's happy that I'm not afraid of Tricia. Of course not. She can be scary all she wants, she needs me. Her threats are empty.

Lily walks away and I unfold the note, looking first at the signature at the bottom.

Emily. Oh good. I don't know where the Hell she went.

It reads:

 _Hi, Celeste. Everyone likes you so much. Let me just tell you how much I like you too. Please don't worry about me. Mornings are hard for me. Everyone knows that. Tomorrow, I'll try to be better. Or I'll be put somewhere else. Don't worry. I want to be better. Everyone knows that._

I reread her message, getting worried that something is wrong. Then I feel like her note isn't making sense, like maybe it's not the message I should be focusing on. There's something here she wants me to know and I don't think it's about her wanting to be better. She repeats a little, so I start reading and reading, trying to figure out if there's a secret message or if I'm just overthinking it.

Maybe she means just as she said.

So, ignoring the meaning, I look at how the sentences are written. Why start sentences when you can easily put a coma and bridge two sentences together? I would have written it differently, but this wasn't written by me, so think differently Celeste.

So I start looking at the first letter of every sentence and then it hits me like a ton of bricks.

 _H, E, L, P, M, E, T, O, D, I, E._

Help me to die.

My heart feels heavy in my chest. This can't be a coincidence. She planned this. Emily deliberately wrote this message because she's tired of living and wants my help to end her suffering. She knows I brought the crow back to life. She knows I'm a Fate. She knows I can kill too. That's why she asked if I was going to kill Tricia.

That's why her future wasn't clear to me. I'm going to kill her.

Right now, just knowing this, it feels like I'm doing a Helluva lot worse than carving sigils into Amelia and Lindsey to bind the Moirai to us. I have a friend asking me to kill her.

The rest of the day, I sit alone with my thoughts. Tricia stares me down like a wolf with a rabbit and I can't even focus. How can I figure out how to reverse the effects of time on her when I'm so worried about Emily. When am I going to see her? Does she expect me to kill her tonight?

I feel full of worry, so much that it becomes apparent to the nurses.

Jill looks at me as I stare out the window.

"Have you been taking your medication, Celeste?" She asks me and I know that she knows. I'm sure I'm not acting like I should, based on the side effects of my pills.

"Yes." I lie to see what that gets me.

Jill is silent as she stares down at me. That's probably not a good sign.

"I'm worried about Emily." I say and she makes this sound in her throat.

"I understand she gave you a note?" She asks and I look up at her and based on the way that she stares at me, I have a feeling Lily wasn't as discreet as she thought she had been.

"She did." I reply and she looks at me, sort of surprised. What? She expected me to lie? I did. I don't usually like twice in a row, a little bit of truth mixed with a lie makes it so difficult to detect a lie. Or am I just thinking crazy?

I take the note out of my bra and give it to her to read. Maybe she'll catch onto the hidden message and have us separated. In a way, that would be nice. I don't want to kill my friend.

Jill reads the note, nods and returns it to me.

"Keep it concealed. It might upset the others." She says softly and I nod, returning to the window. I see Jill walk away in the reflection of the window. She's not so bad, it's just that her bitchiness shows more than any tenderness she could possess, as demonstrated all the fucking time.

I see someone else come up to me and this one has no tenderness.

Tricia.

She stands so close to me and pokes me. I feel this spark and it momentarily makes me whimper, a tear in my eye.

"Stay focused." She says and walks away. I glance around the room to see the patients all looking at me, but looking away. They know Tricia has a new victim and they're just glad it's not them. No one is willing to help me.

Thank God I don't need their help.

I look at Tricia and glare as she plays checkers alone.

Oh, I'll stay focused and figure it out, but I'm also going to kill you. And that won't make me hate myself.


	30. Chapter 30

I sleep alone in my room. I think Emily has been moved because of her depression. That or they think I caused it. Chances are that I did. Or maybe someone caught onto her secret message, asking me to help her die. I'm sure Dr. Frederick isn't a stupid man, or Jill.

Actually, I might be giving Jill too much credit.

As I drift into sleep, I start to dream of Mick again, in our kitchen with our children. Oh, I know where this is going. I fucking love this dream!

He comes down and kisses our children. God, that's turning me on. With my coffee and newspaper, I smile up at him, expecting that glorious kiss that brings us to have sex in our bed… but his stare on me is cold.

"What are you doing here?" He asks me and I'm stunned, so much that my heart seems to stop beating. "Get out of my house. Get away from my children." He adds and he suddenly has a baseball bat in his hands. "Out!" He shouts and I push back the chair, startled.

"Mick, it's me! Celeste! These are _our_ kids." I say and he advances on me, scaring me out the back door that is open. I stumble down the steps of the patio and fall into mud, into the pouring rain, hearing the children cry with confusion and fear.

"Stay out of my house." He says and closes the door. At that moment, I see a woman fearfully cuddle against him and he wraps an arm around her.

It breaks my heart. What the fuck just happened?

I bolt upward in bed, hearing some noises in the hall. I can still feel the mud beneath me, the rain on my face, the intensity of Mick's anger.

"She's sleeping." Jordan says and I hear those noises approach my door. I lay back in bed, making it look like I didn't just get the shit scared out of me. As I close my eyes, I hope they don't hear the pounding of my heart in my chest. I sure can; its fucking deafening.

"Alright Emily, get some sleep." Jordan says and it's sounds like she's really tired because her feet barely leave the floor, like she's dragging her feet. She slowly gets into bed and all is silent.

I open my eyes and see we're alone. I sit up and look over at Emily who doesn't move. I slowly get out of bed and silently make my way to her side of the room. I move around to see her face, putting myself directly in sight. All Jordan, or another nurse, has to do is look in and see me kneeling down in front of Emily.

Wait! I can be invisible.

Oh my God, I'm dumb.

I will myself to only be seen by Emily and kneel down to look at her. She looks heavily doped. I touch her forehead and her eyes flutter open.

"Help me." She says and my heart shatters. I don't think I can do this. Any of this.

"You want me to change your fate?" I ask her and she nods lazily, her eyes half closing. "Are you sure? I don't think I can do this." I add and she nods again, opening her eyes.

"Please. I just want to die. I'm afraid. I'm tired. I can't live like this." She replies and tears form in my eyes. This is a mercy killing and although it's to ease her suffering, it doesn't make it right. I remember that from _Of Mice and Men_. I just can't kill my only friend.

But I can't let her suffer.

I sigh and stroke her head, surrendering. I'm being selfish. This is what she wants and I have to respect that, unlike the doctors here that take away the rights of patients because they deem them too crazy to have human rights.

I might have embraced what had happened to me, but for someone like Emily who never asked to be this way… She has no choice. No one did this to her and no one can help her. If I can help someone, I have to. I took away everyone's choice up until now. Maybe I should stop because all that does is ruin them and get them hating my guts.

"For you, my dear friend Emily, I'll give you a peaceful death. You'll have pleasant dreams and your soul will just drift into Heaven." I say and tears fall down my cheek as I stroke her head. "For you, a peaceful death at midnight." I say, which is an hour away.

"Thank you." Emily whispers, closing her eyes and sleeping. My tears stream down my face. I kiss her forehead, hating myself. I return to my bed, letting my invisibility fall and crawl into bed, crying. Why can't I kill myself so easily? I'm such a monster! Why couldn't I do something more, or at least try before giving her what she wanted? Help her to live a normal life without schizophrenia, without depression! Why is the only thing I can offer her is death? What have I just done?

That is why I hate myself.

I can't seem to ever figure a way to help someone without fucking things up.

In the morning, Jill notices that neither of us are moving. She shakes me and I just sit up, hiding my face like a shamed child. I'll feed Jill the truth about my not taking my pills. I don't care. Lock me in isolation. I really don't care.

She goes to wake Emily, and becomes slightly worried. She gets the nurses to get Dr. Frederick. She glances at me and I look at her, eyes sad.

"Celeste, what happened?" She asks me, but I can't say. Her stare on me becomes suspicious and I know she'll blame me for this. Well, she'd be right.

"Emily prayed to be taken by Death." I say and look at her, fresh tears forming and falling.

"Someone get her out of here." Jill says and Lily offers to escort me out to another room. She goes to close the door, but waits for me to look at her with my sad eyes as I get comfortable on my new bed.

"I'm sorry, Celeste." She says and when she closes the door, I curl up in the corner rather than the bed, and cry.

I don't know how long I've been in this room, but it gives me time to think. I have a lot going through my mind at the moment, such as Tricia, my dream, Mick, Amelia and Lindsey, and Emily most of all.

So, I start with what hurts me just as much as killing Emily. I can't shake off my dream, which I know contributes to my feeling of a shattered heart. I can't stop myself from playing that dream over and over in my head. Mick hated me. He chased me out of the house like a common criminal. Worst of all, he loved someone else. Those were their children, their house and home. I was invading. I didn't belong there.

I belong here, where no one loves me. If anyone really loved me, they'd try to find me, try to get me out. Do you see anyone? No.

I should be isolated, that way no one would beg me to end their suffering. It's not really ending their misery; it's taking the torch and continuing it for them. I feel like I'm carrying Emily's paranoia, depression and fear. I feel like I sort of traded places with her.

And then I have Tricia who is holding me here. I have all the power of the Moirai, only I can't leave and I can't access Clotho's knowledge. I'm stuck being Celeste Armstrong that can bring dead crows back to life for her schizophrenic friends and then kills her schizophrenic friends. How the Hell can I get myself out of this situation? I'm clearly not as powerful as I thought. How could I have convinced Mick that we can stop the Men of Letters? I can't even get out from under a spell! I'm bullied by the seer and I know her threat was reinforced.

Tricia made my dream of a family with Mick turn into a nightmare of him having that family with someone else. The bitch twisted my beautiful dream. I can expect to have nightmares and electrocuting pokes everyday until she gets what she wants. How the Hell am I to do anything on my own?

The door opens and Dr. Frederick walks in, closing the door behind him. He seems surprised to find me in the corner, looking a little like Emily did last morning.

"You're grieving Emily's death." He states and I fight the urge to reply _No shit, Sherlock._ "Well, it's clear you are not to blame for her passing." He adds and I arch an eyebrow at him. "Nurse Orwell seems certain you are responsible for Emily's death." He says and it takes me a moment to realize he means Pissy Jill. Fuck, just when I think she can be decent, she's a bitch.

Fuck.

I lower my eyes, feeling the guilt. Pissy Jill is right. I made Emily die in her sleep.

"Could you tell me why Nurse Orwell believes that?" He asks and I take the note out from my bra. Let's see if he's smarter than Pissy Jill. I extend my hand out, remaining on the floor. He steps closer, taking it and sitting on the bed to read it. "It seems you and Emily were rapidly good friends." He adds and I don't move an inch. I don't need to confirm it. "Do you feel as though you could have prevented her death?" He asks and I cry, nodding and hiding my face.

That's exactly how I feel. I could have avoided her death if I had been given the chance to ask Clotho. Fucking Tricia.

Dr. Frederick returns me the note, obviously not any smarter than Pissy Jill. I stick it back in my bra where he could probably interpret it as being close to my heart. Not really. My pants don't have pockets and I prefer the smell of my sweaty breasts to my stinky feet.

"All she needed was a good friend and, in you, she found that." He says and places a hand on my head. "You did all you could do." He concludes and I want to argue that. I could have done more.

He stands up and leaves, telling Pissy Jill to let me come out of my own free will.

Gotta love the irony I say with total sarcasm.


	31. Chapter 31

After skipping lunch, my body decided that I would not die in that room. I came out for supper, making the nurses smile. I sit alone and Tricia goes to sit next to me, but I glare at her. The nurses immediately tell her to return to her seat and the look she gives me warns me.

Yeah, yeah; turn all my dreams into nightmares. I don't have any good dreams left for you to butcher.

Mick was my only good dream and he's gone.

I sit at the window for the evening, staring out. The window cracked a little when the crow hit it. I'm only noticing this now, oddly. I look out and notice a black shape in the trees. It flaps its wings and I realize it's the same crow. It's beady black eye looks straight at me and it squawks, flapping it wings. It seems angry, but I think it's more at my surrender.

Is it just me or is this crow telling me to get my ass out of depression alley and into kick-ass street?

It squawks and spreads out its wings, impressing me. It flies up and away, making me stare at it in awe until I can't see it anymore.

"Don't you wish you could fly away." Tricia says, mocking me. However, I feel a little more feisty. Tricia is to blame. If she hadn't placed me under her spell out of fear of Clotho, I could have saved Emily rather than let her die. I'm going to channel that rage and point it right at her.

As I look at her, I decide to go one more step.

Tricia is afraid of Clotho. Why? What happens if I were to show her I am Clotho. I'm not just the fucking vessel, I am the Moirai. Server the bond all you want, Celeste is Clotho and Clotho is Celeste.

Mother fucker.

"I'm starting to figure it out, Seer." I say and she seems surprised, but that can't mask that flicker of fear in her eyes as she looks at my sinister grin and the glimmer in my eyes. It might not be Clotho's eyes, but there is still power there. You can't cut Clotho out and just have Celeste.

"Good. Don't disappoint me." She says and walks away, but I can sense her fear. She thinks she can boss me around? She forgets what I'm capable of doing and I don't just mean the crow.

I go back to my room, passing Emily's bed, trying not to look at her side of the room. Jill is there although Jordan is on duty. She's watching me to make sure I'm not going to kill anyone else. I can see it in her eyes. She thinks I'm dangerous.

I settle in bed, my back to the door. If anyone checks up on me, I couldn't care less. I need to focus on my concentration and try to break through the spell. I need to get to Clotho anyway that I can. I'm sure I can get around Tricia. I'm a Fate!

I go to open my mind's eye and just as I'm focusing, there's a tap on the class of my window. I look up and see the crow sitting on the window seal. It taps the window again. I slip out of bed, looking at the crow that stares at me. It cleans under its wing and then looks at me again, squawking.

What is with this crow? Is it like my pet now?

It moves a little more to the centre and stares at me. As I look into its eye, I can't help but think of the Morrigan; the Irish Goddess of Fate, Dead, Strife, Battle and Incarnation. She is known as the Phantom Queen, also known as a single Goddess as well as a trio of Goddesses.

Sounds familiar to Hecate, to the Moirai.

To what I secretly, deeply, want to be; all three Fates in one.

I still think it would be easier for Amelia and Lindsey. Maybe I'll have to endure Tricia's abuse if it means I could be the Moirai in one body.

Anyway, I thought of the Morrigan because she…

She can take the appearance of a crow. She is sometimes known as Battle Crow. She would draw upon a person's inner strength and then empower that person to confront their challenges, insurmountable odds, using all that strength to do it.

I stumble back a bit and the crow does this soft squawk, like it's confirming what I'm thinking.

"No way." I whisper and get as close to the window as I can. The windows are all nailed shut, so I can't let it in, no matter how badly I want to. "Are you the Morrigan?" I ask and the crow just squawks again, turning to fly away. "Wait!" I shout in a whisper. The crow looks back at me and I feel so insane right now, it's scary. "What are you trying to tell me? I don't speak crow." I add and it cocks its head at me, squawking, then flies up into the trees, staying there.

Maybe it's just an ordinary crow, but there's nothing ordinary about those eyes.

I return to bed, thinking about the Morrigan. If I'm a Fate, if Clotho's essence in me is real, then who's to say the Morrigan isn't? Season five of _Supernatural_ had various Gods, including the very sexy Baldur. Maybe she can help me.

I curl up in bed, thinking of the Morrigan, about what she signifies. She's like Hecate; the Greek Goddess associated with death and the dead, although she is a Triple Goddess. I'm still having a hard time to wrap my head around that in my Wicca studies. The Triple Goddess is Maiden, Mother and Crone. Many believe Hecate _is_ the Triple Goddess while many others think the Triple Goddess is Artemis, Selene and Hecate (the combinations vary, actually).

It's confusing, but maybe the crow signifies the dead.

Oh, brainstorm! Maybe the death of the crow was indicating Emily's death. I resurrected it. Maybe I can resurrect Emily!

I quickly relax and focus. I've never contacted a spirit, but I'm sure it's not hard. I open my third eye and focus on Emily; her eyes, her smile, how she would stand by the window. I say her name in my mind, trying to call her forth.

"Celeste?" Someone says and then, she comes out of this fog and I can see her clearly.

 _Emily!_

"Celeste? Where am I?" She asks, a little confused.

 _You died, Emily. You asked me to die._

"I know." She replies and I sort of laugh. She sounds normal, unaffected by schizophrenia. She looks it too, like an average young woman, full of life and ready for fun. "I mean, where is this place. I was in Heaven." She adds and the guilt hits.

 _I'm sorry. I had to talk to you. I'm so sorry. I wish this had never happened._

"What's wrong?" She asks, like she can see the tears forming in my eyes. "Celeste, please tell me you aren't thinking of dying." She says and I feel myself shaking my head.

 _I think I can bring you back._

"No. you mustn't." Emily replies sternly, but then she gives me a sad smile. "I know it wasn't fair of me to put this on you, being my friend. You were the only one that could help me. I'm thankful for your help. This is what I want. In Heaven, I'm normal. I'm happy." She says and reaches out to me. I swear I can feel her wipe away my tears. "Let me go." She says softly and I know I have to.

She begins to fade, but then she comes back, looking a little worried. Did she change her mind? She glances over her shoulder, uncertain, and looks back at me, nervous.

"There's someone that wants to talk to you." Emily says and I don't know who it could be. Maybe the Morrigan?

A silhouette appears, slowly taking shape and when she steps into view, I know she's familiar to me, although I had never seen her before now. She wears a simple gown that seems very vintage. I stare at her, at her eyes, and I can't recognize her.

"Hello, Celeste. I see you need some assistance." She says and then I see something familiar in her eyes, something I know. "You know me best as Clotho, the first vessel." She adds with a slight smile and I gasp.

 _The original vessel of the Moirai._

"Yes." She replies and Emily waves to me, leaving to go to Heaven. She smiles, knowing everything is going to be okay. I watch her go and Clotho continues when we're alone. "The thing about seers; they cannot always be trusted." She says as a major understatement, approaching me. "I understand you cannot contact the essence of the Moirai, accessing her knowledge, however you can ask me what it is you wish to know." Clotho says and I feel that little spark of hope.

 _Perfect_.


	32. Chapter 32

Clotho tells me a lot. She informs me that this fog place is known as many things. It's the in-between. All spirits pass through and once they've crossed it, they're dead. Only deities of Fate and Death and pull them out and back into life. Unless the spirit never passed through, then it should be easy to bring them back. Hence the term _near death experience._

Or in my case, cursed ring that keeps someone from entering the in-between that makes their soul become a body for eternity.

Tricia is afraid of the Moirai. She thinks her spell keeps me stupid, since I'm new to being a Fate. Clotho says it doesn't matter; I'm a force to reckon with.

She tells me of the spell that gives Tricia back her youth. There's only one, but Tricia was hoping for something else, something only the Moirai would know. There's only one. It involves an intense ritual, one that might not guarantee her survival. It keeps the soul in the present, but reverses time on the body. The body is meant to age, not regress and that is why it usually fails. Only the strong willed survive.

Ironic.

So, Clotho and I plot.

Once out of the in-between, I'm sucked into a whirlpool of nightmares. It begins after getting kicked out of Mick's house. I walk in the streets, shivering in a downpour. Vehicles beep their horns at me, drivers shouting horrible things that I can't seem to hold onto, and then I get blinded by lights. Cars swerve out of the way, nearly hitting me.

"Die in a hole, bitch! No one cares about you." A voice echoes and I spin around, thinking that it sounds exactly like Mick.

And I get hit by a car, throwing me into another dream.

I'm in a hospital bed, hooked up to some machines. I can't feel my legs. I can't move at all, except for my eyes that scan the room. I see Mick standing near the door with Amelia, talking to the doctor. I try to call out to them, but I don't make a sound.

"Just pull the plug." Amelia says, heartlessly, then leaves. Mick looks over at me, and I try to scream, but nothing comes out. His eyes are so cold and distant.

"She means nothing now. Pull the damned plug." Mick says and leaves too. The doctor walks over to me and shuts the machines without hesitation. I soon feel suffocated and I can't do anything but be deprived of life. The pain is intolerable, God this is what it feels like to be a plaything of the Moirai...

I'm violent shaken and I open my eyes to see Mick standing over me, eyes blaring.

"Mick?" I ask and he raises his hand and slaps me hard, making me gasp. My cheek is burning.

"I'll kill you." He says and I look at him, only to see it's Amelia that now stands over me.

"I fucking hate you." She says and slaps me across the face.

"Burn in Hell." Lindsey says. She slaps me before I can look at her.

"You monster." Sam says and slaps me hard.

"You're just some evil sack of crap." Dean threatens and slaps me.

I sit up in bed, shaking off whatever is on me. I'm confused and I have no idea if I'm still trapped in my dreams or if I'm really awake now. I look around, trying to recognize anything, ignoring the person trying to calm me down. He's strong. I look into his face and recognize Jordan.

"Celeste, it's Jordan." He says and some nurses pop into my room, turning on the lights. They're all worried, glancing down the hall, whispering about something. "You're having bad dreams." He says and then touches my cheek. It hurts and I wince, flinching away from his hand. "How did that happen?" He asks and glances at the nurses behind him.

They move away like scared sheep and in walks Pissy Jill. She stops and looks at me, then at Jordan.

"She was screaming, fighting something." Jordan says and Jill frowns at him.

"Fighting what? The only one here is you." She adds and when she approaches, she notices my face, then looks at Jordan with suspicion.

"I didn't hit her." He says and she stares harshly at him, moving closer as if telling him to get out.

"It's true." I say and she turns that stare on me. "Jordan wouldn't hurt anyone and if you'd stop being so damn miserable, you'd see he's an honest guy." I add and look up sharply at her, certain there's an ancient look in my eyes. It doesn't matter, Pissy Jill is pissed off with me. How dare I have the lady balls to talk to her after just getting torn apart from Tricia.

She ushers Jordan out of the room and she talks to the nurses outside of my room. This isn't going to be good. I feel like I should get into the flight or fight mode. Call it instincts.

I focus and try to check on the nurses without the mirrors. As stressed as I am, I don't know if I can do it. My heart starts to race just thinking that I'm missing everything. Yup, can't focus.

Fuck!

I lie back down in bed and Jill comes in with a needle and a small bottle. Shit. I knew this wasn't going to be good. I'm just not sure what to do with it. Jordan walks in, but Pissy Jill gives him a cold stare. He closes the door, leaving me alone with Pissy Jill.

Good.

"I knew you were trouble." She says, preparing the needle with a full injection. Yeah, I don't think so. I render myself to be unseen and when she looks at me, she's baffled. She can't understand how one second I was in my bed, the next I was gone. "Where did you go?" She asks, bewildered. I slip out of bed, scaring the shit out of her.

I grab the needle, making her shit scared now, and inject her with the crap. She immediately goes limp. I open the door and stand back, still unseen to the nurses. They peer in and gasp at Jill who's out cold on the floor. They rush in and I walk out.

Time to go see Tricia, the bitch that thinks she can hurt me by making me think everyone hates me. Too late, Tricia; I always thought it.

As I make my way down the hall, they sets off some alarms and have a lockdown procedure. Crazy chick on the loose. I don't care. Lock it all down. I don't need doors.

I find Tricia's room and see her sit up in her bed with a smug look on her face. I teleport myself in and she seems to know I'm in her room. I guess my power sort of announces my presence.

"Finally grew some balls, I see." She says and I remain unseen so if the nurses check the rooms, it'll be like I vanished in thin air.

"Let's not waste time, as you don't have much." I reply, making her glare at me. "I'll need you in your bed because I'm sure the floor isn't comfortable. Stay still while I set a circle." I add and she frowns at me. "You asked me to figure this out. With my power and a little Wicca, I did. So shut up and let me work my magic." I conclude and Tricia reluctantly does shut up and lie still, murmuring under her breath that Wicca is weak girlie shit for wimps who can't handle blood and pain like real witches.

I so can't fucking wait to get this over and done with.

Clotho warned me that since Tricia is a seer, she might not be easily fooled by my spell. However, I think she's just as blindly ambitious as I was when I came here. The book? A spell to become the Moirai in one body? I have to admit, I was blindly ambitious to fix everything. Now I know I can't fix anything except give choices where I took them.

And you know that old expression; it takes one to know one, so Tricia is a narrow-sighted loser who only thinks of herself.

I do set up a circle and I'm sure Tricia can feel the power and the security of the circle. It's typically to keep good energy in and bad energy out, but I reversed it in this case. It's sort of like I bound her to her bed, keeping her away from me, totally defenceless.

"This might hurt a little." I warn her and she glares up at me. "As my mother always told me, it hurts to be beautiful. You want youth? It's gonna hurt." I add and she doesn't look thrilled.

"If I wanted _that_ spell, I would have done it myself." She replies, knowing just what spell, the one Clotho told me about, the only spell that can reverse the effect of time on your body.

"I tweaked it, like any good Fate." I say and she stares at me suspiciously. "Trust me. We'll do this spell and you'll tell me where to find the book. Then maybe throw in a way to become all three Fates as a bonus." I add and she laughs.

"You don't have a clue how to negotiate." She replies and I shrug my shoulders. Who said anything about negotiating?

"Alright, here it goes." I say, concentrating. I hold my hands out, working an imaginary treadle wheel. By tweaking the spell, I meant bullshitting. She is going to feel a slight tingling sensation, but it's not youth she's getting.

It's death.


	33. Chapter 33

Tricia smiles, very blindly ambitious. She isn't the wiser. However, she's going to realize that the tingling sensation isn't doing anything to her body. That's when I'm going to have to be fast and hope that my circle keeps her bad mojo inside, only affecting her. In other words, whatever magic she sends out, hits the circle and reflects onto her. It's going to be excruciatingly fun to watch.

Tricia's smile slowly starts to dim, so this is my cue.

I clench my fists and she gasps for air, her eyes bulging out of her face. She shifts them to me, pure hatred staring at me as well as the stink of fear. Blood is being gathered in her heart, making everything fucking hurt like Hell.

"You think I'm not the Moirai? That I'm just some puppet, controlled by the Moirai?" I ask, letting my rage show. The nurses run down the corridor, sort of checking on the patients and I know this because Tricia's door begins to jiggle. It's a lockdown, genius. And I'm not letting you in.

Tricia tries to speak, but she's having the life slowly sniffed out of her.

"I _am_ the Moirai, you stupid bitch. I am Clotho and the best damned version of her!" I say and she stretches her hand out to me, index finger pointing at me while the others curl. She tries for a spell, but it backfires and she turns red, her veins bulging, emptying all the blood into her heart, making it expand, threatening to burst. "I regret to inform you that I no longer want the damn book. I don't need it. And if I want to be all three Fates rolled into one, I've been visited by someone who's probably more helpful and less of a manipulating bitch than you." I add, making it a painful extraction of her soul just as her heart explodes, blood splattering all over the room. Amazingly, avoiding me.

Too bad I couldn't prolong her death. The nurses were trying to break down the door, seeing Tricia in a convulsion, dying painfully just before a literal blood shower.

I decide with Tricia's rotten-egg and shit smelling soul, that a one way ticket to Purgatory is the best. I can feel that I am well capable of doing that. So, I send her soul to Purgatory and watch as the nurses panic, crying about the room being painted in blood.

At that moment, I release the door and the nurses come in and examine her body from the doorframe, not wanting to get close to the blood that is literally everywhere. I slip out of the room, amazing not tracking blood as I continue unseen, but the patients all look out the windows of their doors, staring right at me.

How odd.

Maybe it's not so much mentally ill as mentally more open than the mentally healthy. Maybe society has it all wrong. The mentally healthy are shutting out the real world, living in a world that only exists to them whereas the so-called mentally ill see the world as it really is. Why else would the patients see me, despite my power, while the nurses can't.

I strangely feel like the Angel of Death.

There's something else I notice; Tricia's spell has broken. I'm free to leave and nothing can stop me. So why do I go back to my room?

I crawl under my bed to make it look good, and become visible. I hide and allow myself to think of a reason why I'm not walking out of this hospital, or at least teleporting out. I think it's because of my nightmares. I know Tricia twisted my dreams into nightmares and none of it is real, but it does feel real to me, especially that last one. Everyone said something mean to me, hitting me. My face still hurts. How can that not be real?

My heart feels broken. In all my dreams, Mick hates me. What if he really does hate me? I made him immortal and Amelia told him heartlessly before I could. Of course, I did have a chance and Mick is right. Did I ever intend on telling him? I left before we could talk about it. He's probably angry with me. Amelia and Lindsey no doubt hate my guts. I forced the Moirai upon them without taking their perspective into consideration. I did it for Mick and even that's probably a cop out. I did it for myself and I cover it up by saying I did it for him. The Winchesters probably don't like me, because I did something horrible and horrible people don't get off the hook with the Winchesters.

If my own guilt doesn't eat at me, it's my dreams. How can I convince myself that Tricia's nightmares aren't holding some grain of truth? I know it's her magic, but it could all be true. Why should I leave this place? What would I go back to? Where would I go? I know there's nothing holding me here but my guilt, but I don't know if there is anyone that loves me, that wants me.

The alarm stops, but the lockdown is still going on. I hear some footsteps and some voices.

"She disappeared?" Dr. Frederick said.

"Nurse Orwell made me leave. We checked and she was on the floor, Celeste's gone." Jordan says and my heart starts to race.

"She couldn't have left the room. The door was locked." Dr. Frederick says, a little irritation in his tone. "Did you check the room?" He asks.

"She disappeared, Doctor." Jordan says and they look into my room and see my feet just tucked under.

"Celeste?" Dr. Frederick asks as they step into the room. He gets down on one knee while Jordan gets all the way on the floor, coming up to be face to face with me. "Careful, Jordan." Dr. Frederick warns. Jordan frowns at that comment.

"She's frightened." Jordan replies.

"She could lash out at you." Dr. Frederick says, but Jordan ignores him.

"Celeste, are you okay?" He asks and I just nod my head, not looking at him. "Why don't you come out?" He asks and I shake my head. "What happened?" He asks and I slowly meet his eyes.

"Nurse Jill was going to hurt me." I lie, sort of.

"Where did you go?" He asks, referring to my disappearing act. How the Hell do I explain this without telling them that I'm unique, to say the least.

"I don't know." I say and tears begin to form in my eyes. "Can I be put in isolation? I don't want anyone to stick me with needles. I just want to be left alone." I add and Jordan looks up at Dr. Frederick who I know would prefer me medicated. Jordan looks back at me, bad news on his face. "I'm coming out now, Jordan." I say and he stands up, letting me crawl out from under the bed.

I stand and let Dr. Frederick see the rage in my eyes.

"It wasn't really a request." I say, letting the ancient expression show in my eyes. "I want to be left alone. Now." I conclude and he gives a reluctant nod, walking out, letting me follow him. We walk down the corridor to the isolated rooms and he opens one for me. Before I go in, he stares at me oddly.

"You understand that your behaviour suggests that you become an involuntary patient." He says and my eyes don't soften a bit.

"Ask me if I care." I say and he opens the room. I walk in and close the door, looking at him through the small window. "Lock it and leave me alone." I add and go to the small bed at the far corner. That's all there is. No window, no bathroom. Just a bed. It's stupid, I know, but I just want to be left alone.

Dr. Frederick leaves and so does Jordan after checking up on me.

 _You did well, Celeste._

Oh, you're back, Clotho. Fuck, how I missed you. I needed you.

 _No, you didn't. You did well. You spoke with the Clotho, original true vessel, and conquered the seer. You harnessed your power boldly._

You forgot killed my friend and suffered a great loss of confidence.

 _No, I did not forget. There is nothing you can do for Emily, now. Death is not a punishment; it's a new beginning. Emily wanted a new beginning and only you could have given it._

I could have made her immortal, like I did Mick.

 _That's not what she wanted._

I'm sure that's not what Mick wanted either. It looks like I do things without considering how people feel. I have thought of myself this whole time. The only thing I did for someone else was kill Emily.

 _You didn't kill her; you freed her. Emily is grateful. And Mick might not like the idea of immortality, but I can assure you he will appreciate the chance to wreak havoc with his revenge. You must not bury yourself in your guilt, Celeste._

It's not just guilt. How do I know everyone doesn't hate me?

 _No one hates you._

Can you prove it?

 _No, but someone will._

You can't possibly know that.

 _I'm not predicting your future. I'm raising your hopes because you refuse to lift yourself out of this pit of self pity. I cannot give you confidence, you must take it back and that will raise you out of the hole you placed yourself in._

I say this with sarcasm: it's nice to have you back.


	34. Chapter 34

I sit in the isolation room, losing track of all time, not even sure of the foods I had eaten and trying not to think of my nightmares. I can't sleep because I'm afraid that, spell or no spell, I'll dream that Mick hates me. The others can hate me all they want, but if Mick hates me, that'll break my heart. Here, I come to admit that I love Mick. Fucking love the man.

I want to dream of him. I keep myself awake, afraid of those nightmares, until my body forces me to sleep and I dream of nothing. That dark void, the safe void.

Anyway, Clotho is slowly convincing me that Mick might not hate me. She's trying to be optimistic, which I find hilarious. Otherwise, she doesn't talk much. She soothed me once in a while, like a friend. It makes me think that I have the best imaginary friend in the world.

She didn't find that funny, much to my surprise.

I lie in my bed, facing the wall. I'm not myself and everyone knows it, even if they didn't know me well. I'm not depressed, but I'm feeling down. I just don't know why I can't shake this off. I turn in my bed and look at my pan on the floor. That's my bathroom. I was apparently wrong about not having a bathroom.

I put the pillow over my head and sigh at the voice in my head. No, not mine.

 _Do you know why you feel like shit?_

Hey! What the Hell! Since when do you talk like that? You know damn well I'm damaged goods right now.

 _Answer me._

I don't know.

 _You can't lie to me, Celeste. Enough is enough. I am tired of hearing you bitch and moan._

Wow, I hate you right now.

 _You know you do not cower in here because of the seer. You are not her victim. You are not the victim of her nightmares. You killed her. You must be proud of that. You know you do not cower in here because of Emily. You are not guilty because you helped her where no one else could. You delivered her and you must not forget that she is grateful to you. Now tell me, why do you remain here when you are free to leave?_

The nightmares –

 _Are not real. I'll tell you why you cannot even bring yourself to teleport out of here. You are afraid of rejection. You fear everyone hating you, so much that you don't have the courage to go prove yourself wrong. Has any fiber in your body said Mick is a hateful man?_

Mick probably does hate me.

 _So you'll rot here? What if you miss any chance of having that hot sex with him?_

What?

 _Get out of here, Celeste. Go to Mick and prove to yourself that he doesn't hate you. You resurrected him. Made him immortal. You showed him the only kindness he's ever known. How can he hate you? The real monsters were the British Men of Letters, not you. No matter how upset he might have been with you, what you have done to the rest of his life, it is nothing compared to how those assholes ruined his life until he met you._

I keep the pillow over my head, thinking it over.

 _Celeste, I will go insane in here. If I go insane, so will you._

Okay.

 _Celeste, get out of here!_

Geez, you're persistent.

I sit up in my bed, looking around the room. I'm trying to imagine a life for me outside of these walls. I don't think I can go back to the bunker. Maybe I can stay at the motel, even if it's dreadfully lonely. I can slowly work back into Mick's heart from there.

He's the only one that matters.

 _So go to him and get the fuck out of here!_

Oh, such language!

 _No worse than you._

I get up and just before I can teleport, Dr. Frederick taps on my door, opens it and steps in. I'm suspicious of him, but he stays in the doorway with a small smile like he's still my friend despite the fact he'd be the first to lock me away.

"You have a visitor." He says and I arch an eyebrow.

"Who?" I ask, not knowing who the Hell could be visiting me or why for that matter.

Oh, the Morrigan?

"Your psychiatrist." Dr. Frederick replies and I stare at him with confusion. "Dr. Michael Fergus." He adds and my confusion remains, until I start getting a little hopeful. Fergus.

No, not Crowley-Fergus, although I would still take that.

"Medium height guy, black hair, a little unshaven, beautiful light eyes, talks with an accent?" I ask and Dr. Frederick steps out, gesturing for me to join him. I'll take that as a _yes_. God I hope it's a _yes_.

I step out and look down the hall, not seeing anyone. Dr. Frederick lets me walk down, just following behind me and I turn the corner, seeing the nurses' station at the end, with a man clearly upset with the nurses and the old secretary. Holy shit, it feels like months since I saw her.

And the guy?

He's exactly as I had described him, but I feel like I forgot how gorgeous he is. Now I feel like it's been years since I saw him and it feels so fucking good to stare at him!

"Mick?" I ask, my voice soft as I look at him in a tan trench-coat over his black suit, a white buttoned shirt under and black loafers. He looks so hot. He glances over at me as I approach. He doesn't look happy, but his face softens. I can feel the relief and happiness on my face. Maybe that surprises him.

"Celeste." He says and reaches an arm out to me. I step up, as much as I dare, stunned that he'd even reach out to me. He places that hand on my shoulder and looks at me, examining me. "When was the last time you slept?" He asks and I frown in confusion. This is not the first thing I expected to come out of him. Am I still trapped in some delusion?

"I don't remember. I was isolated." I reply and he immediately glares at Dr. Frederick.

"You placed her in isolation?" He asks, irritated. Wow, Mick looks so sexy when he's mad. Maybe it won't be so bad if he's mad at me.

"She requested it." Dr. Frederick replies. Mick takes a letter out of the secretary's hands and waves it at Dr. Frederick. Oh, he's kinds scary when he's mad… so sexy.

"If you had read my letter, you would have known not to give her what she wants." Mick says and I frown at him, confused. "You should have contacted me when she had arrived." He adds, angry. I'm lost, just what the Hell is going on? Why would Mick send a letter? I'd check with my Moirai powers, but I can't focus right now, his sexiness distracts me too damn much.

"She admitted herself." Dr. Frederick argues. "We had no way of knowing she was already seeking treatment." He adds and I start to form an idea of what is going on. One can't get a patient out if she committed herself, so give a convincing story and blindside the institution. Sneaky little bugger.

"If you'd have read the letter, you wouldn't have ruined any of my progress. She commits herself when she becomes stressed and overwhelmed with aspects of her life. Her treatment is with me. The last thing she needs is isolation. You have fed her insecurities and increased her desire of emotional and mental self-mutilation." Mick says, making the doctor and the nurses cringe. "I am taking my patient out of here and the next time you receive a letter, read the damn thing." He adds, flicking the envelop at Dr. Frederick and walking away with his hand gripped around my arm. Tightly, that is.

Just by looking at Mick, all of this is an act. There never was a letter, until now. He's so convincing that even the staff here believe him. Fuck, I believe him. What better way to get me out of here. But why? He's mad at me. I deserve to be locked up.

"He already signed the forms. I swear I had not seen the letter." The secretary says softly as everyone takes a breath of relief, despite the major confusion of what the fuck just happened.

As we walk out of the hospital, I keep glancing over at Mick, wondering if he's angry with me. His hand on my arm is pretty tight, so I'm not sure. Just outside is a luxurious car and Mick opens the passenger door for me, waiting for me to get in, then closes the door, going around impatiently. He gets into the driver's seat and starts the engine, putting it into drive and getting us out of there faster than a Lamborghini.

I glance over at him to see his tense jaw, his hands tight on the steering wheel. He looks pretty pissed. However, we remain silent, but not for long.

"Explain to me why you were in that mental institution for over a week." Mick says, cutting the silence like a butcher's knife. I look over at him, at how he keeps his eyes on the road.

"Over a week?" I ask, a little surprised he knows and I don't. Did he keep track of my absence?

"Yes, Celeste; eight days." He replies. "I know about the seer, but what I don't know is why you'd commit yourself." He adds and as I get over the shock that Mick Davies rescued me from that place, I begin to see his not-so-distant past. "You're not insane." He adds and I don't focus on his words anymore.

Amelia and Lindsey received the call from the seer, but ignored it. Mick became worried that I was nowhere to be found. He used every trick he knew to find me and there was nothing. He turned to my cousin and she refused, too busy sulking over the facts that the Winchesters had found: the sigils on their arms cannot be broken. That's not even the worst of it. Once the essences are in your body, there's no extracting them out of you. It's only sweet freedom through death. Now, that isn't even an option.

Mick made Amelia face the facts, telling her that I can be in danger. All he wanted to know is where to find me. Once she told him, the Winchesters tried to stop him, but he told them to get out of his way, and left the bunker without any other words.

Yes, he was mad, but he wasn't mad anymore about me not telling him he's now immortal. He wants to be angry about that, but he then became angry at how I left like a coward. Then his anger about that faded too, leading him to just be frustrated that he couldn't find me. And now? Angry all over again about everything: me hiding the truth for so long, running away and being away for eight days.

However, he can't seem to stay mad. He saw my face, looked into my eyes, and empathy replaced anger. Why? Because he saw my pale face, the stress and sadness. I looked like a hopelessly heartbroken stranger with resemblance to someone he knew.

I'm stunned. I don't know if that means he cares about me or if it's just unfinished business, anger totally removed. But I'm impressed and so fucking relieved to have Clotho prove me right; someone who obviously cared about me got me out of that Hell-hole.


	35. Chapter 35

I'm a little speechless that Mick would find and rescue me. Maybe he doesn't hate me.

"Celeste, answer me." He says at my silence. I glance at him, feeling a little nervous.

"You're angry with me." I say with unintentional sad eyes. Mick goes to answer, but when he looks into my eyes, nothing comes out of his mouth. His expression softens and he takes a deep breath before answering.

"Yes, I'm angry. I find out I'm immortal and just as I look for answers, you disappear. Then I have to get you out of that place and…" he says, letting his sentence fall. He glances over at me again, but this time I look outside the window. My avoidance adds to his silence before he continues. "What happened in there?" Mick asks, his voice soft with empathy, realizing that this might be more important than what had happened to him.

I can't answer.

"Celeste, talk to me. I know something happened. You're not yourself." He adds and I snort.

"Do you know me?" I ask and he's silent for a brief second.

"Enough to know something's wrong." He says and keeps glancing from the road to me. I sigh and skim through the details, deciding that I can't keep being afraid of rejection.

"The seer said she knew where to find the book of the Moirai. It was lost after Atropos' vessel vanished. However, she wanted me to give her back her youth. Once I got to the hospital, I was unaware of the spell she placed on the damn building. Once in, I was trapped. The only way out was to kill her and I did." I say, keeping my gaze away from him. He's silent for a moment, which makes it awkward.

"Alright." He says, just like that. I glance over at him, a little stunned.

"That's it?" I ask and he looks over at me, arching his eyebrow.

"It explains why you were there for eight days; tricked by your guilt, trapped by a spell." He says and I look away, a little too fast I think. "There's more?" He asks and I bite my lower lip; yup, I looked away too fast, a sign I'm hiding something. Damn. "Again you withhold information from me." He says, as if talking to himself. I'm beginning to think Mick really hates being left in the dark about things he should know. I can't blame him, he probably was left in the dark all the time with the British Men of Letters and he probably hoped I wouldn't be like them. "What happened?" He asks and I take a deep breath. Maybe I should just tell him everything. If we're going to be connected because of me resurrecting him, then we should try for a good relationship, open communication, and all that shit.

"The seer's spell cut off my communications with Clotho, so I had no idea how to make the seer younger. She tormented me with nightmares and she hurt me. I had to summon the original Clotho, the first true vessel of the Moirai, and I tricked the seer. I killed her. That was a couple of days ago. I didn't keep count." I reply and Mick is silent. I can't look at him for some stupid reason.

"You broke the spell, yet you stayed? In isolation? For a couple of days?" He asks and I know that he knows that I'm not telling the whole truth. Damn. Well, I certainly can't tell him that my dreams of him throwing my ass to the curb with hatred is what drove me to isolation; my pit of self-pity.

Mick slows the car and pulls it over, putting it into park. I look over at him and see this softness that makes me want to tell him everything, just so I can curl up in his arms to cry. I so badly need to do that. I think he sees that because he goes to look ahead, but stops himself.

"Why did you ask to be isolated?" He asks, so empathetic. I twist in my seat and when I look at him again, feel like I'm going to cry. So I quickly make an escape.

To the back seat.

Yup, I'm a coward, but at least I'm not teleporting this time.

"Where are you going?" Mick asks and then my legs sort of get stuck. He helps me and I crash in the back seat, certain that he won't look at me like that, making me want to cry. He sighs, opens the driver's door, closes it and opens the passenger door, getting in with me.

Damn.

I go to sit up front, but he blocks my exit with his arm, then locks the doors with the remote he detached from the key that remains in the ignition.

Damn.

He's too good.

"Celeste, stop running from me. Please tell me. I'm listening." He says and tears begin to flood my eyes, threatening to fall. He places a hand on mine and I crumble. I begin to sob and I turn to him, inviting myself to cry on his shoulder, whether he's comfortable with it or not.

I fucking need this.

Then he hesitantly wraps his arms around me in a comforting embrace which makes me cry more, but with relief.

"I deserved to be locked away in isolation." I say, my words barely audible over my sobbing.

"Because of binding the Moirai to your cousin and her friend? Because you resurrected me as an immortal?" He asks and I shake my head. It's part of it, but it's Emily. I'm still having a hard time believing I did the right thing. Since accepting Clotho, what good have I done? Any good has hints of bad. I brought Mick back to life only to screw his life over with a lifespan of forever.

"I killed my friend." I say and he listens, waiting for me to continue. "She asked me to help her die. She knew I could. She wanted to end her life, unable to tolerate her mental illness. I had to change her fate. She died in her sleep. I didn't want to kill her." I add, crying, pretty much soaking the shoulder of his trench-coat with my tears.

"Although it's hard to end someone's suffering, you mustn't blame yourself. She trusted you." Mick says, rubbing my back as I feel his breathing against my chest. I can even hear his heart beating if everything is quiet.

"I was so scared. The seer twisted my dreams into nightmares. Everyone hated me. No one wanted me around. It hurt so much." I say and his arms tighten around me and then I feel his hand on the back of my head. "I thought you'd hate me." I conclude. It's all I can say. I don't know how much he'll understand how much my heart broke, how my confidence has been shattered. I don't know how that makes him feel. Maybe nothing.

"Why would I hate you?" He replies after a small moment of silence. "I may not be pleased, but I could never hate you." He says and I clench my eyes shut, feeling a load of pressure lifting off my shoulders. Clotho was right. "No one hates you." He adds, softly, like he's just saying that to comfort me, thoughtlessly.

I pull back and look at him, unimpressed. He gives me a twitch of the lips, like he'd like to smile, but feels it's inappropriate at the time.

"No one? Try Amelia and Lindsey." I say and put myself back in his arms, not ready to put an end to our embrace. It feels so good to share my pain and have someone hold me. Mick puts his arms around me again, no back rubbing or head holding this time.

"Do not mistaken their self-pity as hatred for you. They hate that you bound the Moirai to them. As it turns out, once the essences of the Moirai are within you, there is no –" he adds and I say the word before he can.

"Extracting the essences." I say and he's silent. "I can't see your future, being an immortal and all, but I can always see your past, even if it's yesterday or an hour ago. I'm sorry, there's no privacy with me." I reply and I feel his hand on the back of my head, his cheek pressed against my head. This feels so fucking good. However, I know something that might make him feel good.

No, not sex. Although I hope that's in our near future.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I didn't know how to tell you." I say and make a mock example. "Hey Mick, welcome back to life! Guess what, you're immortal. You can do all the things you could before, just not the dying part. Oh, and you can still suffer from infections, contract illnesses and all that fun human stuff. Are you ready to kick some butt as a non-indestructible guy?" I add and he laughs a little. We remain silent and despite my enjoyment, it's getting a little awkward.

I pull back, wiping my eyes. Mick pulls his handkerchief from his breast pocket, handing it to me to wipe my eyes. I'm guessing this is the only reason guys have these on them, the epidemic of crying women. It's pretty thoughtful, actually.

"Thanks, Mick." I say, keeping my gaze away from him. He shifts a bit and when I look over at him, he takes off his trench-coat. He mustn't like having my tears on his coat. But, I'm wrong when he somewhat puts it on my back.

"You should rest." He says and I give him a sad and somewhat content smile. "We have a long way back." He adds and sort of returns the smile before opening the door, getting out, closing it and getting back in the driver's seat. He waits for me to make myself comfortable, and then he puts the car into drive.

I don't even know at what point he started accelerating because I had fallen asleep.


	36. Chapter 36

I wake up and I think the car stopped moving. I'm not really sure. I push myself up and look out the windows to see a garage. I know this garage. It's the bunker.

Holy shit. I slept the whole way?

I glance up front and see Mick, shifted in the driver's seat, looking over his shoulder at me.

"How do you feel?" He asks and I rub my face, grunting a little. Dare I ask how long he has been staring at me?

"Like a drunk party girl with a lot of shame." I reply and he's silent for a moment, but then gets out of the car, opening the passenger door for me. I shift and turn to him. He extends a hand to help me out. Quite the gentleman.

I step out of the car and he fixes his trench-coat on my shoulders. It's cute how caring he's being. I was totally wrong about him hating me. Fuck, I was even wrong about him being angry with me. Sure, he said he was angry, but he's been so gentle and understanding.

"You have nothing to be ashamed of." He says and leads me out of the garage. I can tell he wanted to put an arm around me and walk me out, but he hesitated and obviously decided to just walk close to me. I think he's having a hard time with the physical contact. Sure, it's okay to comfort someone who's crying, to wrap your arms around them and hold them. That he can do because he gave himself a reason to allow himself to do it. Holding me as we walk? He's unsure. I guess years of the Men of Letters suppresses any typical human behaviour and social desire.

Bastards.

That and maybe not having any parents to show him how to demonstrate affection contributes to this hesitance of placing an arm around me.

Maybe I should just take his arm and place it around me.

"Don't you think I should have some remorse for making Amelia and Lindsey immortals?" I ask and Mick stays silent for a moment. I actually have to look at him before I get a response.

"I have no doubt that you already feel remorseful." He says, not really answering my question. "However, it's been done. Of all the things you can do as a powerful entity, the only thing you cannot do is change the past." He adds, more or less saying I should be and since I am, life goes on. Easy for him to say.

We walk throughout the bunker and every step I take into the place, I start to feel my anxiety rising. I glance over at Mick and I think he feels a little anxious too. Well, at least we're in this together. It feels that way to me anyway.

We turn the corridor and I can hear some voices. I have to go straight into the lion's den before I can turn down the corridor to my room. You bet I'm high-tailing it out of here to my room.

Everyone looks up at us and Mick stands tall as we enter.

"Hey, Mick." Sam says, all eyes on me, and by the time Mick looks over at me, I turn down the corridor, letting my hair hide my face as I make my way to my room. I quickly get in and close the door, locking it. I just can't face them and I certainly can't explain why I'm wearing standard white clothes.

Damn it; it is a fear of rejection.

"Celeste?" I hear Mick say. I hear some footsteps and I know he's not alone. I feel the shake of my doorknob. "Celeste, please open the door." He says closely to the door. I don't reply, first wanting to know if it's Sam and Dean out there with him.

"Mick, maybe we should give her some space." Sam says, being Mr. Sensitivity, and I hear shifting of shoes on the floor, Dean being impatient.

"She had space. Isolated space. What she needs is someone to understand her so she won't be afraid or ashamed of her capabilities." Mick says, not giving any details of why I'm afraid or ashamed. I press my ear against the door, closing my eyes, concentrating on seeing them. I can picture Mick facing Sam, making sure he's in between my door and the brothers. Sam stands with his hands at his sides while Dean has one in his pocket, the other by his side.

"Mick, she just –" Dean begins, but Mick doesn't give him the chance.

"You didn't see the hope in her eyes when I got there. You didn't see the relief on her face. You didn't see the fear in her eyes through her tears. You didn't comfort her while she cried and confessed the weight of guilt she carries. You witnessed a change in her demeanour, I'm sure because the Celeste I've known for a short time does not withdraw herself to isolation without feeling completely alone. You can't tell me something happened to her and that she'll be fine. She's not herself and she needs someone. Clearly, I'm the only one she can rely on, seeing as how I'm the only one that went to look for her to bring her back." Mick says and this awkward silence falls. I can feel the anger he has towards them all for not giving a shit where I had gone. He then shifts back to the door, talking closely to me, fed up with the Winchesters. "Celeste, open the door." He says, sounding worried.

Sam and Dean are silent, as if doubting Mick, like they know how to handle traumatized women better.

I turn the lock on the doorknob and twist it, opening it enough to meet Mick's eyes. He gives me a slight smile, as if happy to see me open up to him, figuratively and literally.

"I've got something for us to eat." He says and I open the door more for him and once he slips in, I close the door and lock it, standing there a brief moment. "It's alright." Mick says, placing some plastic wrapped sandwiches and bottled water on my desk, looking at me like I'm a scared puppy hiding under the bed and he's some confident dog trainer. The Winchesters walk away, I exhale with relief.

"I just felt too anxious." I say and take off his trench-coat, placing it on the chair at my desk. "I'm sure they're still angry with me, especially Amelia and Lindsey." I add and sort of rub my arms. I know I'm not myself and that it shows, but I don't know how to get back to myself. Right now, I just want to get out of these clothes and I can't exactly strip with Mick in my room.

Well, I could…

"Amelia and Lindsey have their own problems. Forget them." Mick says and I give him a small smile. It's easier said than done. "And the Winchesters won't hurt you." He adds and I cross my arms over my chest, getting a little tense. Look at him playing as my advocate.

"Are you angry with me?" I ask him and he gives me this sad expression. He approaches me and doesn't seem to know what to do with his hands. I'm probably not helping with my crossed arms. I'm sure my body language is telling him that I don't want him to touch me while my heart is practically begging for it.

"No." He replies softly, hesitant, so I lower my arms and he wants to reach for me, but still hesitates. Maybe he would prefer if I just invite myself into his personal space. "I'm not fond of not knowing all the details, but I'm not angry with you. On the bright side, Ketch can't kill me twice." He adds and I sort of laugh, getting him to smile. No, but he can torture the fuck out of you which is still unnerving. "If not for you, I'd still be dead." He concludes. I guess that's gratitude.

We have this awkward silence, so I turn and take a sandwich and a bottle of water, handing it to him. I take what's for me and we sort of switch places. I sit on my bed while he takes the chair, the one with his trench-coat. Yeah, we're not having sex anytime soon. Just the thought of sitting on my bed with me is scandalous.

We eat in silence, not really looking at each other. I'm so not counting this as a date. This is the worst interaction I've ever had with any guy.

Once we're done putting something into our stomachs, it's really awkward. I have to say something.

"Thanks Mick, for getting me out of the institution." I say and he looks at me, as if stunned that someone actually thanks him for being a great guy, multiple times. I meet his eyes and he gives me a small smile. "And thanks for comforting me. I'd be a mess without you." I add and his smile becomes bright.

"Likewise." He replies and I hide my face a little as I smile, making his smile turn beautifully bright. He's so happy for a guy that jokes about his own death. I look at him and then at my white clothes. I fucking hate these things. I want my clothes. "Will you be alright?" He asks and I can see a bit of fatigue around his eyes.

"Yeah. You should rest. In the meantime, I'll take a shower and relax with Internet." I say and his smile tones down a bit, back to his usual smile as he nods.

"You're welcome to come get me if you should ever need me." He says, standing up and fixing his suit jacket. I smile, fighting back a grin. Oh, I need him, but I doubt he'd appreciate me taking his offer in that context. Or maybe he would. He hasn't spent a lot of time in bed with a woman.

Ever.

"Thanks Mick." I say and he opens the door, I approach him and we sort of stare at each other. "Are you doing this because you feel obliged to me?" I ask, blurting it out so that we're both a little unsettled about it.

"No." he says, not elaborating on that.

He's ready to go, but there's a small window of opportunity that I decide to embrace. I lean in and place my lips on his unshaven cheek, giving him a thankful kiss. I lean back and he looks at me stunned while I give him a soft seductive stare and a modest smile. He gives a quick smile and slips out of my room, down the corridor to his room. I close my door and lean against it, placing a finger to my lips.

I could have easily grabbed him by the collar and kiss him full on the lips. Fuck, I want to do that so badly. And I've just decided that he must always remain slightly unshaven because that is just so sexy.


	37. Chapter 37

I grab my clothes and leave my room, going down the hall to the showers. I'm happy to get out of those clothes and so glad to take a shower. I don't remember my last shower. I'm surprised that I didn't stink.

Or maybe I did. That could explain why Mick hesitated to get physical with me.

Nah, I doubt that. It's his lack of growing up with normal human beings that stops him from being socially physical.

I quickly shower, cleaning every inch as if to wash away anything that still bothers me, and dry off. As I'm getting into my jeans, black boots and awesome black shirt, it's like I'm excited to get back to my good old self. It's awesome to be me again. I look in the mirror and grimace. Well, I'm almost me. I need a bit of eye shadow and eye liner. And jewelry. I miss not wearing jewelry.

Although I did sleep all the way back here, I sort of look like shit.

I return to my room and do just that, sighing with relief as I look at myself with some makeup and jewelry. Now I look fucking good.

I am Celeste Armstrong, a cool kick-ass chick and now that I'm back, Mick might just want to kiss me in return.

Feeling invigorated, I turn on my iPod and play a bit of music, dancing around as if Mick could see me. A little sexy swing here, a little slutty move there. Yeah, I'm back! I look at myself in my mirrors, sort of taking back in all the confidence I lost, like these walls had absorbed it.

I almost believe it.

Yes, I've been lying to myself. I can only make the surface look like the old me, but my eyes and smile say something totally different.

Something continues to bother me.

It's Amelia and Lindsey. We were talking last week and I was under the impression that they were taking it well. Then I slap on the sigil with a knife and fire, because in order to save Mick, I had to bind the Moirai to us. I knew Amelia and Lindsey would hate me because this binding makes us forever the Fates. There's no dying and being released from the Moirai. This I know is what pisses them off. They'll never forgive me.

I don't think they should. I took away any choice hey could have had. I made the choice for them. Although I don't regret my actions now like I might have in the mental institution, I still feel guilty about it… like I still feel guilty for giving Emily exactly what she wanted. It's forever going to be the hardest thing I've ever done.

After my guilt sours my mood, I watch TV on my laptop, catching up and having a laugh. Oddly, I went from watching some episodes of _Game of Thrones_ to _The Big Bang Theory_. I didn't keep count of the hours. I'm pretty sure I had to pee an hour ago and just forgot about it.

I leave my room to go to the bathroom or else I'll forget again and piss myself. The corridor is silent and I'm not bothered at all, in the sense that I don't feel like I have to look over my shoulder. And in the sense that no one walks in. It feels good to use a toilet. My last days at the institution, I peed in a metal pan. Toilets are not overrated.

I come back from the bathroom, and hear people coming from the other end of the corridor. I quickly teleport to my room, afraid that it's Amelia and Lindsey. By teleporting, I avoid them completely… until they go to their rooms which are close to mine. As I stand in my room, I can feel their eyes burning holes through the wall. It's so strange how I can feel them. I'm sure it goes both ways.

I don't know how much of this I can take. I'm sick and tired of being scared. I don't want to walk on eggshells with those two. I've had like a week of fear!

 _So, don't be afraid._

I won't be... the next time I leave my room.

 _Chicken shit._

Alright, be nice.

I decide to ignore their presence and turn to my laptop. They go into their rooms and I know because I can breathe, no longer anxious. I surf the Internet, visit some websites that existed in my world and discover that… they don't exist here. Damn. So, I make some research on the Men of Letters. Nothing really pops out, so I know my super spy research skills suck. I have no idea how I'd get any intel with which is a cheap Google knock-off.

Mick and I talked before, which was more like me telling him, about how we can take down the Men of Letters. I mentioned knowing the systems, such as communications, networks and procedures. Mick would know all of that.

And I can't do basic research on these guys because they're all like secret-society, can't-get-anything-on-us.

So, giving up pretty early, I watch a couple of movies online, some of my favourites like _Guardians of the Galaxy_ , _Suicide Squad_ and _Practical Magic._ Every girl needs at least one chick flick.

Once my eyes start feeling like they might fall out of my head, I turn in. I curl up in my bed and let myself drift away in the comfort of my own bed. Well, as much as my own as this bed can be. I wouldn't mind sleeping with Mick right now. I can just imagine him laying in bed right now, not even under the blankets, just his dress shirt tucked into his pants, one ankle over the other. He lies on his bed with his eyes open, staring up at the ceiling, his hands folded on his chest, relaxed and sexy. Although, he does look exhausted, yet restless.

Oh, I'm not imagining it. I'm actually seeing him in either real time or what he was doing before he fell asleep. I'm placing my bet on the latter. A man that tired doesn't stay awake, staring up at the ceiling.

Fuck, can I please sleep with the man? He's so damned gorgeous!

Despite my deeply rooted desire to sleep with Mick, I fall asleep like my heart is hoping that my mind conjures up a dream about him. I say fuck yeah!

I wake up much later, not really remembering if I had any dreams. Like, c'mon! I'm a Fate and I can't remember my dreams willingly?

Disappointed, I slip out of bed and keep my clothes on. Why change them? I don't stink. I just put on some perfume to smell good. Maybe Mick will notice my perfume and come get a closer sniff.

Oh, I so need to get laid. Just listen to me! Well, if these weren't things going on in my head where Clotho is the only one that can hear them.

I open my door and slip outside. I'm not sure what time it is, but everything is quiet. I turn down some corridors and hear a bit of noise. It's the base room and there, I find the Winchesters hard at work. They sit with books and coffee, Sam with his laptop, looking like they either just woke up or stayed up all night.

As I walk in, they glance over at me, just looking at me. I'm not sure how to handle this, but I give it my best.

"Hey guys. Please tell me you didn't skip the sleep." I say and Sam gives me a slight smile, like it's an effort to be nice.

"No, we had some rest." Sam replies and I nod, sort of staying in place. I might not be ready yet to go any closer.

"So, what's up?" I ask and the brothers sort of exchange glances, like wondering if I even have the rights to know. "You know I'm asking just to be nice. I can just look at you and see all I want to see." I add and they glance over at me, looking a little concerned. "You got a message from your Mom, but haven't been able to reach her? I can help, you know." I say and Dean sort of frowns at me, like he doesn't appreciate that I glanced into his not-so-far past without giving him a chance to tell me. That, and I don't think he values my offer to help.

"How?" Sam asks and I look at him, unimpressed.

"Dude, it's called scrying. Hold on a second." I reply and go to get a mirror.

I can see there's something that bothered Mary when she left Dean that message, but I can't see it. Her message sort of blocked any information. I'd need to see her to know what it is she meant by _We have a problem_.


	38. Chapter 38

I return with a mirror from my room, sitting at the table beside Sam, concentrating as they stare at me with anticipation. I focus on seeing Mary and it comes into view. She's in a chair, metal clasped down on her wrists and ankles. She looks like shit.

It turns out that Mary found Ketch's behaviour odd. He asks to sleep with her again.

Wait, what! She slept with Ketch? How could she!

As repulsed as I am at her lack of judgment, I push on. She sees Ketch in Mick's office, talking to someone, saying the task has been cleaned and covered. She accidentally has been noticed by her buzzing phone and she asks to check her emails, Ketch hovering over her shoulder. Not a stupid man, unfortunately. She gets an email, just so happens to be from Mick, saying he's going to be in London longer than expected. Not even a phone call.

She becomes a bit suspicious and eventually slips into a room where familiar faces are on screens. The Men of Letters know their exact locations. Her boys and their friends. Targets.

Ketch catches her and they fight, because she refuses to give in, only she makes the mistake of turning her back on him, getting stun gunned by the bastard.

Now? She faces Toni, the so-called Lady Bevell. It's clear that Mary is Men of Letters' property.

And Ketch?

The bastard has fallen for her, but his lack of conscious keeps him from doing the right thing.

Warped mother fucker.

I put down the mirror, Sam and Dean stare at me with concern. I meet their eyes and think of how I'm going to tell them. I have to tell them. If I don't, I wouldn't have learnt my lesson about withholding information because I know it's hard to hear.

"She's in trouble. Toni Bevell is with her, I vaguely saw a sort of plan to make your mother cooperate." I say and the Winchesters are angry and nervous despite their lids clasped tightly over the boiling pot about to blow up in my face.

"They want the American hunters dead, so are they using our Mom to kill them or find them?" Dean asks and I put as much empathy into my eyes as I can. He knows before I can even explain.

"They already know where everyone is." I reply and both look pretty pissed. "I'm sorry." I add and before I can say anything else, Dean cuts me off.

"If you hadn't gone off to the mental ward, our mother might not be in Toni's hands." He snaps and I stare at him, a quick spark of rage that makes my mirror shatter in front of me like someone smashed it. Sam is uncomfortable, but Dean remains convinced that I somehow could have prevented the inevitable.

In that exact moment, Mick walks in, not looking impressed.

"Did I hear you blame Celeste?" He asks as he obviously heard what Dean said.

"If she'd have been here –" Dean says and Mick cuts him off.

"Need I remind you that it was your mother's choice to join them and trust them?" He asks and I get up to leave. I just can't be here. Dean blaming me, Mick defending me although he said he didn't feel obliged to me, which I doubt was true. He lets me go and he quickly rips into Dean for having offended me. I can't help but turn the corner, press myself against the wall and listen.

"If anyone is to blame, it's you for recruiting our mother." Dean says to Mick. "And her for only doing what she wants for herself." Dean adds, obviously not my number one fan.

"And that justifies you to treat her that way?" Mick begins and I can't help but feel flattered that he would defend me, although I'm sure he feels like he owes me for saving him from death. "You have no idea of the guilt she carries and you make her feel as though it is her responsibility to ensure your mother doesn't put herself in harm's way? Because she is a Fate, you feel it is her job to save everyone?" Mick adds, sounding very pissed off with Dean. "I'm sorry I got your mother involved, but she could have refused, Dean. Had I known this would happen, I would have refused meeting her." He adds, making it clear that she came to him. I hear some shuffling, like maybe Sam holding Dean back from beating up Mick.

"If she hadn't run off, she'd have been helpful." Dean replies, but Mick gives him no chance to add anything else.

"You have two other women who could be helpful. What's done is done." Mick quickly replies and I hide my smile with my hand. Mick is so on my side, it's just so damn awesome. "You said it yourself, Dean; the only way out before the binding was death for these women. Now that they're immortal, they can do so much more than pout." Mick adds and now it's Dean who cuts Mick off.

"And Celeste took that away from them, the chance to die. Don't you get that? Die and go somewhere peaceful after a life of Hell." He adds, obviously having taken Amelia and Lindsey's side because he can relate to their situation. "You and her just ruin everything." He concludes, painfully.

"Have you ever thrown in the towel, giving up because you're afraid the good you do only hurts others?" Mick asks and Dean falls silent. It seems like both have experienced that, both in different ways. "You have saved countless, including misunderstood creatures. We have all done things we are not proud of, but we believed we were doing the right thing." Mick adds, softening because what he says applies to everyone, himself included. "Don't judge her." He concludes and I can hear him turn away. I teleport myself to my room, giving myself time before he reaches my door to let it all sink in.

Mick has to care about me if he said all that. It can't be that he feels like he owes me. Obviously he cares because he was the one to drive all the way to the institution and get me out, but I mean he must strongly like me. Maybe he feels about me the way I feel about him.

My heart flips and I feel as light as a feather, hopeful that he loves me.

Oh, do I mean love?

Yes. Yes I do. I fucking love Mick. But what if he doesn't love me? What if he just cares about me? What if he thinks I just care about him? Caring and loving is not synonyms.

Oh, I am afraid of rejection.

At that moment, there's a knock on my door.

"Celeste?" Mick asks, sounding like his usual administrating self, but there's softness in his tone. I walk over and open the door wide enough to suggest I'm inviting him in. However, he stays at the threshold. I look into his face and see empathy despite his administrative stand. "I came by earlier to see how you were doing." He adds and all I can feel like my heart deflating. Why is he different? Was he always this way? Calculated and British?

"Fine." I reply, realizing that I sound stupid. He didn't ask me if I was okay. He said that I was gone when he came to check on me. It's like I skipped ahead to when he asks me how I'm doing. Could I be more stupid?

"May I ask what it is you saw about Mary?" He asks and I sort of perk up. I gesture into my room, inviting him in, and he actually walks in. Perfect! I close the door and turn to see him taking the chair at my desk. One of these days, he is going to sit on my bed.

"She discovered that they're targeting Sam and Dean as well as their close friends. Ketch found her and gave her an ultimatum: play nice or… as we know the consequences aren't good. She decided not to play nice. They fought and when she turned her back, he shot her with a stun gun." I add and Mick's expression remains attentive like none of this is a surprise to him. "She wakes up, stuck in this chair and Toni plans to make her cooperate. I didn't see how. I loss my focus." I conclude and Mick props his elbow on the arm of my chair, titling his head and messaging his forehead. He looks like a supermodel, not going to lie.

"Knowing Toni, she'll subdue Mary by injecting a concoction she's been waiting to use." Mick replies and sits back in the chair. "Brainwashing. Mary will have no control. She will do as she is told, only remembering when the injection wears off. A few more sessions and Mary will become a killer as cold as Ketch." Mick adds and I can't help but shiver a little, picturing Ketch to be so happy to have Mary become like him. Although, I think he liked Mary as she was. Well, he can't like her that much if he watches her personality fade away.

Cold bastard.

Stupid Mary.

"I don't think I can get her out of there without making them suspicious." I add and Mick stands up, becoming that caring guy again. Oh good, I thought that soft side of him was gone, like he felt that he didn't need to do that for me anymore.

"You can't save everyone." He adds and I think he wants to touch my arm, but he just puts his hands in his pockets.

I might have to look sad and guilty just to get physical contact from him.

I'm so terrible.


	39. Chapter 39

I'm not going to play the sad little thing that needs cuddling. I'm sure Mick is going to come around if he does love me. I've got to admit that now is not the best time for a romantic relationship. He's focused on taking out the Men of Letters and I'm dealing with Amelia and Lindsey who are still pissed with me.

"I'm a Fate. I brought you back. That's like the only good thing I did. In a way, Dean is right, it's just he's mad so he shoots the messenger." I say and Mick frowns a little, as if he could argue. Or maybe he's a little offended that I referred to his resurrection as the only good act I did, like I'm dismissing his value as a person. God no, never.

"As the Moirai, you feel the need to oversee everyone's fate. However, that is not your responsibility." Mick adds and I stare at him, a little dumbfounded. "You are not a Goddess." He says and I frown slightly.

"Well, a little. I'm immortal and powerful. I think that gives me a sort of Goddess status." I reply and Mick continues as if he didn't pay attention to that statement, or he disregarded it because it's pointless.

"You cannot be everyone's guardian angel." Mick says and I sort of have this stupid smile on my face that makes Mick stop, look and realize that he just referred to me as his guardian angel. Oh, this is definitely a step in the right direction, although I'm not sure it could lead to sex. "What I mean to say, is that not everyone can depend on you." He adds and it seems he's having a hard time to put it into words. "As, you cannot live for everyone else. You must live for yourself." He concludes, making me smile. Poor guy.

"Thanks, Mick." I say and go in for a hug, which surprises him a little. As I wrap my arms around his shoulders, he takes his hands out of his pockets and places them on my back just as I move my arms onto his shoulders for that tight squeeze of a hug, one body pressed against the other. Let him smell my perfume and feel the glory of a woman's body against him.

I let my hug last a little longer than your average hug, which Mick did not protest. I stand back a little and his hands slowly slide around to my waist.

Then there's the knock at my door that makes Mick fix his suit jacket like we're teenagers caught making out in the closet.

"Celeste, we need your help." Sam says, trying to soften me up after his brother lost it on me. I glance over at the door, exhaling with a bit of irritation due to Sam interrupting something interesting. I glance back at Mick who looked at the door too, then back at me. Maybe he was thinking the same thing.

"I might not be a Goddess, but I can help like divine intervention." I say and the corner of Mick's lips twitch, as if he found that either funny or not funny at all. It's hard to tell.

I turn away and open the door to see some stress around Sam's eyes. It bothers him a lot to know that his mother is trapped somewhere and that's before he knows she'll be brainwashed. How can I not help? How can I not want to try saving everyone? Is Mick really insisting that I not care about everyone else like I care about him?

"Please." Sam adds with those sad puppy eyes.

"I don't know what I can do, but I'll be there in a minute. We can figure something out." I reply and Sam nods, a little relief in his face. He walks away and I close my door, looking to Mick to see if I'll see some disappointment.

"There's not much you can do. They're not going to let her go." Mick replies with concern, not disappointment.

"I have to try. I have to tell them as much as I can see." I say and Mick's lips tighten into a straight line. "You know Toni better than we do. You have intel. Please, work with me." I say, extending my hand out to him, like I'm expecting him to take it and kiss it. It's not my plan, I just thought having my palm facing up would make me look a little desperate.

Mick takes my hand with a slight smile, his lips twitching into a small smile.

"Of course." he adds, like it's so obvious that he'll always be by my side. Silly me, I should have known, I say with total sarcasm.

In the base room, at the table, we put our heads together. I tell the Winchesters what I saw, what Mick said. He elaborated and it increased the level of stress in the room. As the men talk it out, I phase out a little, sort of seeing a flash of events about to happen. This is new. Is it just me, or do I always have some new tricks rolling in?

"Celeste." Mick says, noticing that I'm not pay attention. Sam and Dean stare at me, worried that I might be picking up something on their mother.

Sort of.

"What were you saying?" I ask and he frowns a little, concerned too.

"What were you seeing?" He asks and the air feels a little thick now.

"I saw Toni, in a car, watching something. I saw Mary and Ketch, acting weird. Something about the bunker, going dark." I say and Mick advances, placing a hand on my arm with worry. "I didn't even concentrate to see this. It just flashed in my mind." I say, not sure if I should worry about it or not.

 _Not. Consider it your notification alert of bad shit about to happen in the next forty-eight hours. Dreadfully sorry you couldn't have this before. As I said Celeste, if you had everything at once, you'd lose your mind. Think of it as gradual release._

"Oh, it's foreseeing bad events before they happen, like a warning." I add, sort of comforted by Clotho's little side note, totally not as worried as I should be, based on the way that the men are staring at me.

"What bad events?" Mick asks and they stare at me with piercing concerned eyes. I look at Sam and Dean, leaving Mick's thoughtful touch and focus on Dean. He frowns a little, but I ignore it and focus on his future, seeing the events more clearly. They discover that the Men of Letters have hacked their phones, tapping in whenever they want to know what's going on. They plan a trap for the Men of Letters and catch Toni, finding out from her that their mother had been sleeping with Ketch, that she will cooperate and that Mick is dead. They get to the bunker, to find out that the Men of Letters also planned a trap. Mary is brainwashed and Ketch shuts off everything to the bunker, sealing the Winchesters and Toni in like a tomb. He even called it _poetic._

"Fuck." I mumble and put everyone on edge. "It's not good at all. I need to get to Mary before they brainwash her, or she'll end up pointing her gun at you two and walking out with Ketch, sealing you in here with Toni." I add and everyone frowns with confusion, waiting for me to clarify, but I don't.

I go off to my room to gather some stuff, a mirror for one since I broke my last one.

 _You could fix it, reverse time and it'll be flawless as before._

It's just a fucking mirror. I can buy a new one. Or steal one.

 _Yes, steal one, as you did the first time._

As I go to my room, the guys follow me, as if wondering what the heck I'm up to.

"Celeste, I don't think you understand how difficult it will be to accomplish that task. It's not like they won't notice Mary's gone missing." Mick says, catching up to me while Sam and Dean hang back a little, as if giving us our little couple time. No, our lovers' quarrel.

Yeah, I like the sound of that.

"And I don't think you understand how Mary feels, fading away and not being able to fight back." I reply, not even glancing over at him like the determined woman that I am.

"I do." Mick says, touching my arm and making me stop. As I look into his eyes, I know that he knows. Hell, the man died and stayed at my side as a spirit, watching his body burn. He couldn't do jack shit about it.

"Then let me try to save her. If I can't figure a way to fool the Men of Letters and get her out, then I have to find a way to save her mind." I say softly, sort of lowering my voice so the brothers don't hear me. They stopped too, still giving Mick and me some space.

"I'm not stopping you." Mick says, his hand going down my arm to my hand, as if reminding me of our little holding-hands moment earlier. I don't think the Winchesters can see this. I think Mick is blocking this from their sight. Not that I care. "I just don't want you to get hurt." He adds and I give him a small smile.

I could kiss him.


	40. Chapter 40

Mick lets go of my hand and walks with me to my room, sort of leaving the Winchesters behind. I bet their wondering what the Hell is going on between Mick and I. Well, actually I think they know.

Mick and Celeste, sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G...

I wish.

I walk into my room, leaving my door open in case Sam and Dean want to come in. I doubt it.

"What are you doing, exactly?" Mick asks as I grab another mirror off my wall.

"Although I'm concerned about Mary, this is actually bigger than that, as we all know." I say and turn to him, holding my mirror against my chest. "The Winchesters know what the Men of Letters have planned for American hunters, right?" I ask, sort of confused. I'm in the past, in the future, stuck in the present. It tends to get a little confusing.

"Yes." Mick replies, looking over his shoulder at the empty doorframe. Sam and Dean aren't there. Chickens.

As he confirms the fact the Winchesters know of the Men of Letters want to kill off American hunters, I remember Dean asking if they're wanting to use Mary to kill them or simply find them.

My memory sucks.

"I didn't see exactly if Toni is brainwashing Mary to make her a killer like Ketch or just an informant." I say and based on Mick's grim expression, I know. "Killer Mary it is." I add and grab my laptop, looking around and thinking. Mick steps up and takes the mirror and the laptop. I'm thinking he wants to help me carry my things, but he puts them on my desk and places his hands on my arms, getting me to focus on him.

Oh, this is nice.

"You don't have to do this alone." Mick says and I cock my head and give him a small grin.

"I've got you." I add, totally missing the point, until the lightbulb goes on. "Oh, you mean Amelia and Lindsey." I add and he gives me a small smile. I really have to focus, I'm quite dumb right now.

"In order to save Mary, you can't do it alone and I wouldn't be much help." He says and I take his suit jacket in my hands, sort of closing the gap between us, his arms going around me. Oh, I could get used to this.

"All I need is you." I say and then I can see a slight flicker of panic in his eyes, like he sees this going a completely different route than he intended.

Shit.

"Amelia and Lindsey are never going to embrace the Moirai and like Hell they're going to work with me." I add, making it sound like I wasn't just having a little romantic moment. All to put his afraid-of-intimacy mind at ease. I let go of his jacket and back up, giving him space which seems to make his eyes slightly sad.

Great. I'm afraid of rejection and he's afraid of intimacy. Just lovely.

I grab my things and go to leave my room, ignoring his hesitance to touch my arm.

"Sam, Dean." I call out, walking into the hallway to see them turn and act like they weren't just having a whispered conversation. "Give me a list of all the hunters you know. I'm going to check and see who the Men of Letters have killed. We need a plan to keep your friends safe. You guys will do that and I'll focus on your mother." I add, having cleared my bogged mind. Mick follows behind me and I'm sure he can feel the bit of distance between us.

Not just physical distance.

We took a step forward, getting close, and we both freaked out a little and took two steps back. We're both unsure of how to interact and how we feel. Do we just care about each other? If that's all, how much physical contact is okay? What kind of physical contact?

A long way from sex is all I know.

How fun.

We're at the base table and I point out to Sam and Dean the fact that the Men of Letters can tap into their phones. They curse under breath and tuck their phones away, far away from the table. You mention one little thing and the Winchesters become paranoid. They checked the entire bunker, leaving Mick and I alone at the base table. We sit there in silence, Mick on my laptop and I looking at my mirror. I think we're both trying to look busy.

I try scrying to pick up more intel on Mary. From what I see, she might have started the brainwashing process. It blends with her talking with Ketch, playing him and then grabbing his gun to shoot herself, but Ketch stops her. I put my mirror down and rub my face. I don't even know what's what anymore. What is the past? What's the present? What's the future?

 _Too much scrying will do that, Celeste. Constantly looking back and forward will be too much for your mind. Stay in the present for a while._

I can't help but grunt a little, hiding my face.

"What's wrong?" Mick asks and I spread my fingers to look at him, hands at my keyboard, shoulders relaxed, eyes fixed on me with some concern.

"I can't keep scrying. If the person isn't in front of me, it's getting hard to distinguish past, present and future." I reply, dropping my hands, pushing away my mirror. "For all I know, Mary could be totally brainwashed and the Men of Letters are ready to pounce." I add, looking down at my hands, feeling a little disappointed in myself.

I'm totally not a Goddess if I get confused easily.

"I know how compassionate you are, but as I said…" he replies, letting his sentence fall as to not repeat and further discourage me. How thoughtful. I'm not sure I'm saying that with or without sarcasm.

"I'm useless." I add and he closes my laptop.

"I never said that." He corrects and I hide my face again. "You're spreading yourself thin, trying to save everyone. Never mind the hunters. Forget Mary for a moment." He adds and I drop my hands to meet his eyes.

"And do what? Wait for Ketch to come to us?" I reply and he gives me this somewhat blank and administrative expression. "Mary has been dead to her boys since Sam was a baby. Sam has never known his mother and Dean feels like his mother is still dead, that this Mary is just an illusion of what she could have been in his life. This is important to them." I conclude and Mick is silent, probably understanding for the first time.

I hear some footsteps and then the Winchesters walk in, looking at what they have to search.

"Can't you kill him with your mirror thing?" Dean asks as he walks into the room with Sam, pointing to one side and taking the other, continuing their scan for wires recording their every word.

"Why didn't I think of that. Snap my fingers, Ketch be dead. Winchester so smart." I say and Dean casually glances at me, unimpressed with my sarcasm.

At that moment, surprisingly silent, Amelia and Lindsey walk in, arms crossed, glaring at me.

Fuck.

"Aren't you all powerful?" Amelia asks and I return the glare.

"You'd know if you weren't still pouting." I quickly reply and all eyes fall on our conversation. The room is deathly silent and the air feels thick. What is about to happen? Is Celeste as snarky as she used to be? Is it going to be a showdown between the Moirai? Stay tuned…

"We wouldn't be pissed if you didn't carve these fucking sigils on us." Amelia adds and I justify my actions.

"I had to." I begin, but both girls attack, verbally I mean.

"For Mick!" Amelia says, looking at him like this is all his fault. Bitch.

"You brought him back because you have a thing for him. That's the only conclusion we can draw, or else he'd still be dead." Lindsey says and Amelia groans.

"So pathetic. We pay the price for your boyfriend." She says and the air does get thick because my mood darkens. Even the lights begin to dim.

"You honestly think it's fair for Mick to die like that? He deserves better and, as an immortal, to be the only one standing in the fight against the Men of Letters? Nothing stops them from torturing him. And what good are we dead?" I say and they glare at me, their body language suggesting that they'd like to kick the living shit out of me.

Where are the Winchesters? Deciding not to get involved in this fight. And Mick? Deciding he can get more information out of this as an audience member.

"So you make yourself immortal to be with him? Dragging us into it?" Amelia asks and this is the part where I try foolishly to make amends.

"I know I took your choice away –." I say and they jump in. Or should I say jump down my throat.

"Oh, got over your insanity to admit it?" Amelia asks and in that moment, I shove her against the wall with my power, furious. She glares at me and Lindsey is ready to kick my ass, but she's pounding on an invisible barrier.

"I went to the seer because I thought she might help to make me all three Fates." I say and the room falls heavily silent, which it was already, but they're all stunned to know that's why I've been so fucked up. I'm trying to carry all the weight on my shoulders to save them the agony of it. You know what, that has to be said. "I thought I could take the burden off your backs since you're being such pussies about it. But there's no way out and I really don't think dying is the best option. There are so many things out there that we could stop. This is who we are, so sack up girls. We are the Moirai. I did that I had to do and that wasn't even the worst thing I've done as Clotho." I say, checking to see if I'm not going to breakdown just thinking of Emily. "We may not be able to help every soul, but we can at least help those that stand around us. Who's going to keep the Winchesters alive? Angels? Demons? Reapers? God? They all did it once and they'd rather not do it again. It's your turn if you love them so much Mrs It's-Alright-to-Love-a-Fictional-Character-aka-Dean-Winchester." I say and the room stays quiet.

Too quiet.

But damn I feel good!


	41. Chapter 41

"Now is the time you two grow some balls and accept your roles. We have the power to turn tables. Ketch thinks he's on top. Toni thinks she's so smart. Mary is going to be a mindless killing machine obeying orders. Hunters are going to die. Lucifer's baby is about to pop and I haven't even seen the rest. God knows there's more. There's always more.

"I'm doing this all by myself while you two sulk that I'm the bitch that robbed you of your choices. You want to point the finger, fine by me; but don't forget which dumb-ass opened the portal and got our asses into this mess. It's time to suck it up and think about someone other than yourself. Harness your power and save Mary. Fucking do something, just don't expect me to waste my time teaching you because I don't have time to waste." I say, the room eerily silent.

Amelia and Lindsey continue to glare at me, but I don't care. The guys are probably stunned by my outburst, but I don't care.

I'm pissed.

 _Well done._

"I need to concentrate." I say and brush past Amelia and Lindsey, breaking my hold on them. They don't even move although they totally can. I feel everyone watching me until I turn down the corridors.

Celeste Armstrong is totally back with a new attitude.

I lie on my bed, eyes closed, totally relaxed in order to focus. Fuck the mirror; I want to see people in my mind. I want to see more of Mary, but I've seen all there is to see. Her brainwashing makes her future unclear. I focus on Ketch, seeing that the bastard has a trained Hellhound that might have already killed one of the American hunters.

Oh, the one that killed British Snobby Renny. The snivelling Renny.

And who gave him the Hellhound? Crowley. He has a deal with Hess. Fuck that woman is a hypocrite. I'd like to see why she made a deal with Crowley, but she's stupid if she thinks she can control demon activity.

And speaking of Hess, she also said to both Ketch and Toni that they are up for a great promotion: Mick's job administrating the people that will be replacing the American hunters. British Men of Letters in charge of killing monsters in the United States. Then what? Canada and Mexico? World domination?

That's speculation, by the way.

That's why Ketch will lock Toni in the bunker with Sam and Dean.

I try to see Castiel, but I discover that I can't see beings that aren't human. Of course, the past of all beings are open books to me, but not their present and future. Clotho didn't have to tell me. I could only see that Crowley, besides his deal with Hess which is still unclear, had Lucifer chained to a chair, under his control because of something he added to his mother's spell on the Fallen Archangel. And Lucifer? Same thing, but pissed as Hell.

Kelly and her Nephilim baby are unseenable, which is not a word, but describes them perfectly. I can't affect the fates of beings that aren't human. Although Kelly is human and her baby is partly human, her unborn child is too powerful and it protects itself well.

I snap my eyes open and see Mick sitting on the edge of my bed with my iPad in his hands rather than my laptop. I could totally surprise him, but I just want to take in the sight of him sitting on my bed. I never thought it would happen.

I think I've been staring for two whole minutes now. Time to say something.

"Was I dead to the world or something?" I ask and he tenses, glancing over his shoulder to meet my eyes.

"Something; for three hours." He replies, not really seeing the humour in my question. "You wouldn't wake up." He adds and remains on my bed, until I sit up, then he grabs my chair and sits in it. The guy is so afraid of intimacy. That or vaginas. Please don't let him be scared of lady parts.

"I'm –" I begin, but he puts my iPad down next to my charging laptop and cuts my words with a surprising question.

"What are all the reasons you resurrected me?" He says and I stare at him, baffled. "Spare me none because if I know for certain one thing about you, it's that everything you do is based on emotion." He adds and I know why he asks. Amelia and Lindsey pulled the _Lovers_ card of the imaginary Tarot deck of my life. That sounded better in my head before I actually said that in my head.

Anyway, they weren't wrong, but they didn't see the big picture. Clotho said I could save Mick, but she wanted me to bind us. I had a choice; I could have refused and seriously gone insane, but that means leaving Mick alone as an immortal. Vulnerable Fates just doesn't sound like something that can stop Ketch and Hess. Bound to the Moirai means they can't kill us. Advantage. Win-win. Hooray.

Yes I love Mick, but they make it sound like the only reason. It isn't. Mick might think it's the only reason, despite me already having told him my reason.

 _Bullshit. You wanted to save him. You didn't want to do anything more, but proceed._

"You got screwed over from orphan day one. Life was unfair to you and you die for the right thing while the ones who killed you are ready to kill hundreds if not thousands for their ideology. You deserved better because you are a great guy. The world needs more like you. It's not fair that good people die and assholes run the earth into destruction. If Free Will grants that, then the world needs Fate. I couldn't do nothing." I say and know more has to be said. "Minutes before we met, I stared at you, seeing your past and future. It broke my heart and maybe it's because you were the first person who's death I saw, but I think it's because I saw how you could help change the fate of the Men of Letters. I couldn't just let you die and be forgotten." I add and his stare continues to be of the administration type, giving me no hint of his thoughts.

"And?" He asks and I frown.

"And what? You expect me to say I thought you were too gorgeous to die? That rather than empathy, I thought like a hormonal teenage girl? Do you expect me to profess some scandalous secret? I have no secret. Yes, I care about you. Yes, I like you. I just wanted to save you because nothing good here gets saved in this world! I've watched so many good people die. Look at all the good Ketch killed! Did you really want to be one of them?" I ask, nearly shouting at him with way too much emotional conviction.

If he doesn't see that I love him, then he mustn't want to see it because he doesn't want love.

We stare at each other while I feel my chest rise and fall like I just beat the shit out of someone, my face burning with agitation. His expression never changes, never revealing anything to me.

"Thank you." Mick says, getting up from my chair, turning it back towards my desk.

"Thank you?" I ask and he turns to me with a short nod, reaching for the door.

"I'll leave you to your scrying." He says, opening my door and leaving without so much of a short glance my way.

I just stare at the door, not sure what to think. Just what the Hell does thanking me mean? Is he happy? Is he hurt? Is he angry?

I'm full of emotions and I can't even label them. I just don't know what to do. I thought my answer was great, but maybe it wasn't as personal as he had hoped it would be.

I might have to forget my fear of rejection and make a move in order to see if Mick was upset. I'll have to be the fool that reveals her heart, exposing it, being totally vulnerable.

I wish I could see my future so I'd know what to do.


	42. Chapter 42

I leave my room about five minutes later, refreshing myself a little. I have to look good if I'm about to open my heart to Mick.

I walk down the halls and as I walk into the base room, see the Winchesters and the girls getting stuff together, putting things into bags like weapons. I clearly missed something while I was out for three hours. They glance over at me, seeing my clueless expression.

"We've set up a trap." Lindsey says and I look at them with an arched eyebrow.

"Capture Toni and get her to tell you where to find Mary?" I ask and they continue on in silence. There's my affirmation. "Well, just be careful. Although I didn't see Ketch until he makes this bunker a trap, be careful anyway. The bastard has a Hellhound." I add and they all freeze, staring at me with a certain bewilderment.

"No way." Dean says and I arch an eyebrow at him.

"Long story, but to make it short, Hess and Crowley are BFFs." I reply and he curses under his breath while Sam does his clenched jaw thing. "You're all going?" I ask and the girls hold their heads up high.

"We're backup." Amelia says and I glance over at the Winchesters who don't say shit.

"Right. Anyway, do be careful." I say and look around the room. "Where's Mick?" I ask and Lindsey does this snobby girl tsk sound.

"Your boyfriend is in the kitchen, drinking." She says and I simply flip her my middle finger as I turn back down the corridor to another that takes me to the kitchen.

I've come to notice that I always have to have the last word before walking out of a room. Yeah, I did it quite often.

I walk in and see Mick at the table with a bottle of liquor, drinking alone.

The last time he drank alone, I walked in and then the next day he died. I'm sure he's thinking the same thing. What could possibly happen out of this little drink and chat?

"Mick, did I say something wrong?" I ask as his eyes casually glance up at me, and at his glass as he takes a mouthful of amber booze. He puts his glass on the table as I take the chair facing him, meeting his eyes.

"No." He replies and I know that's bullshit.

"Something is wrong. Care to talk about it?" I ask and he goes to drink again.

"No, because there's nothing wrong." He replies and I watch as he drinks. And he says _I_ hold back information.

"Well, in that case, I think I'll go kiss Sam goodbye. Hell, Dean too." I say, getting up to leave, watching Mick set down his glass, jaw clenched. "I'm sure they wouldn't refuse my flirtations." I add, turning my back to Mick, hearing him snort. I quickly turn back to him. "What was that Mick?" I ask and he keeps his eyes on his glass.

"I didn't say anything." He replies a little coldly. So, I turn my back again and walk out of the kitchen.

He still says nothing.

Fuck.

I walk back in, determined and sit across from him again as he keeps his eyes on his glass.

"Really? I said I was going to go kiss Sam and Dean and no reaction?" I ask, leaning forward, arms on the table. He lifts his eyes up to me, a little hard.

"Were you looking for one?" He asks, so cold.

"Sort of, yeah." I reply and he takes another drink, emptying his glass. I take the bottle away before he can reach for it and we have this cold stare-down. "You want me to talk when things bother me, yet you don't do the same. If you don't tell me, I'm going to find ways to make you talk." I add and he looks at me, unimpressed.

"Like attempt to make me jealous?" He asks, so impersonal.

"You're just not a jealous guy, but I have more tricks." I say and he doesn't seem convinced.

At that moment, Sam walks in, glancing at us with a bit of discomfort.

"We're leaving." He says and we don't even glance over at him.

"Alright." I say and Sam stays in the doorway for a couple of seconds, but then leaves as if realizing we don't really care all that much. Mick and I stare at each other, a battle of wills. "Talk." I say and he doesn't say anything. His expression even remains the same. I hear the front door close, so I'm prepared to do whatever it takes, no matter how embarrassing. "Have it your way then." I add and get up, only to leave the kitchen.

I'm sure Mick is wondering just what do I have in mind, but he probably doesn't think it'll work.

Oh, it'll work.

I walk back into the kitchen with my iPad, opening my music and taping on a song, putting the device on the table.

 _Only Love Can Hurt Like This_ by Paloma Faith. It starts silent, but then it hits and the music makes me want to sing and dance instantly.

I stand away from the table and extend my hand to Mick.

"Dance with me." I say and he snorts, reaching for the bottle of booze. I go around, taking Mick's hand and pull. He gets out of the chair, eyes still on the bottle. "It was an order, not a request." I say and we stand in the centre of the room. I place my hand better in his, the other on his shoulder. He lazily places his free hand on the curve of my waist just above my hip, his eyes avoiding me as we slowly move to the music.

Until I move closer to him, his eyes meeting mine with a bit of resistance. He won't be able to resist my charming smile and the slight seduction in my eyes.

"There was a guy I liked back in junior high. He was cute with blue eyes. I liked him so much, I would leave notes in his locker." I begin and Mick's stare remains resistant, but suspicious. "I would dream that he'd come to like me, but he never did. I thought there was something wrong with me, like I wasn't pretty enough for him." I add and his eyes lose that coldness, like he's putting aside his anger because he's relating to my story, so I'm guessing, or he's naturally empathetic. "He never rejected me openly, but I was heartbroken all the same. I knew he'd never like me. I knew because he'd walk pass me and never look at me." I conclude and Mick just waits to hear where I'm going with this.

I close the gap, my hand on his shoulder sliding to an angle so my arm can rest against his as I place my head near his throat. His hand above my hip slides to the middle of my back. Our joined hands remain for a while, until he lets go and wraps both arms around me, my arms now around his neck. I lift my head, cheek to cheek and place my lips close to his ear.

"I dreamt of you when I was at the institution, a beautiful dream. I missed you. God, did I miss you. I needed you and I'm so happy you came for me." I begin and I can just feel this amazing feeling as we dance while in tight embrace. "The seer twisted my dreams into nightmares. You rejected me, left me to die, and it hurt unlike any hurt I had ever experienced. It hurt because you're the only one I've actually fallen in love with and I was afraid you really hated me." I conclude and he stops, freezing in place. I pull back just enough to look into his eyes.

He's stunned, although he can hide it pretty good.

"When I said I resurrected you because I care about you, it's true. I just down-played it because I'm afraid you might not love me back. I apparently have a fear of rejection." I add and he puts my mind at ease with a tender kiss to my lips that quickly grows passionate and hungry. His arms tighten around me, keeping me pressed against him. My arms remain around his neck, but one hand just has to comb my fingers up the back of his head.

We part our lips, I ignore the slight scratching of his unshaven gorgeous face. I can taste the whiskey that lingers on his tongue as we kiss. We suck in air to breathe in between kisses, but we don't stop kissing. I never thought I'd be one to nearly suck on a guy's upper lip, but here I am. I swear this one kiss is a mixture of all types of kissing technics. We're just discovering what we like and making out without a care in the world. I even bite his lower lip a little.

And if you think that's good, I think my iPad is a little Fate. The song ends and Bon Jovi's _Bed of Roses_ begins.

Just fucking perfect.


	43. Chapter 43

Mick seems to take the new song as a suggestion, as he breaks our kiss, releases me from his hold, but quickly takes my hand and leads me out of the kitchen. I just can't help but smile like an idiot as we walk down the corridors, going to my room.

Mick throws open the door and once in, lets go of my hand to undo his tie. I close the door and lift my shirt over my head. He turns to me, eyes locked with mine as we strip. I have to admit that I didn't think sex would be this quick on the menu. I'm not complaining; just surprised. Happily surprised.

As I undo and drop my jeans and kick off my shoes, Mick advances and kisses me. Our lips stay locked together as he kicks off his shoes, loses his pants and I slip out of my bra and panties.

Once his briefs fall, he pulls me tight against him and into my bed we go, under the blankets as it's a little chilly being buck ass nude. We smile as we assume the positions: Mick on top of me, my legs open and ready to receive him, my arms around his neck as I pull him down for a kiss. And the best part...

Yup, that's it. Fireworks are already shooting off in my head.

Sweet penetration.

He's so smooth for a guy I momentarily had pinned as afraid of vaginas and intimacy. I guess posh guys know a thing or two about how to please a woman. Not that I'm calling Mick posh.

Not at all.

Oh God, less thinking, more screwing.

Just feel the push and pull of his penis against my clit, in my vagina and up to my cervix.

Fuck!

Mick's hands glide down the curves of my waist and hold onto my hips, giving him better leverage. I can't spread my legs open enough, but I can arch my pelvis up to meet him at every thrust. I think we both can benefit from that.

Push, pull… oh, best feeling ever!

And it's not rough sex. It's passionate, gentle and loving. This isn't a fling. This isn't to release some sexual tension. This is a blossoming relationship. This is a way to tell each other that we love each other. My mother always said sex doesn't have anything to do with love.

Fuck, she was wrong!

This sex says _I fucking love you._

Mick seductively kisses my neck as my hands feel the smooth skin on his back. I close my eyes to better concentrate on the sensation of his skin on mine, of his movement, our movement. I want to burn this feeling into my memory. My hands begin to wander, one sliding down his lower back, the dip of his spine while the other combs through his hair starting at the base of his neck, going up.

I can feel his muscles contract and relax with every thrust, with every kiss, with every touch. I never was the type to lie there and take it, but fuck… with Mick, I don't fucking mind.

His lips come up my neck, over to my ear and I can hear his breath, like he's reaching exhaustion but refuses to give into it. I know we can both go for a long time. His lips come to my jaw and I smile, letting him work his way to my lips.

Then, there it is, a great kiss that makes us hunger to taste each other. Our lips lock, push open and close. It makes me think of someone without teeth sucking on a lemon. Not sexy at all. I don't even know why I'm still thinking. This sex should make me melt, make my mind go blank.

Yet, I feel so invigorated that my mind can't stop.

I stick my tongue in his mouth and he gladly smacks his tongue against mine. I just can't resist the thought that he's in both of my biggest holes.

Yeah, I need to shut the fuck up.

I arch my leg as high as I can, my calf stroking Mick's firm ass. Oh God, he's got a nice ass! I have to feel with my hands. So, I go down his back with my hand and feel his ass, especially when he thrusts against me. Oh fuck yeah, firm ass.

I naturally constrict my vaginal muscles as if to try to keep Mick in place so I can squeeze his ass. In response to that, Mick gives a slight threat-like grunt as if strongly liking my little technique. The pleasure's all mine. Really.

All the while, we never break our kiss and Mick never skips a beat in his push-pull fucking rhythm. The man is seriously skilled.

His hands begins to move up, as if he now feels free to explore my body since I grabbed his ass. One stays at the curve of my waist while the other cups my breast and pushes it up to squeeze it, slightly pinching my nipple between his index and middle fingers. His thrusting picks up a bit of speed, which makes me moan a little. I think my tit got him a little excited.

Not only does he thrust a little faster, but he gets a little rougher. I constrict my muscles, arch as much as I can, moving along with him. He breaks our kiss and, at the moment we stare into each other's eyes, everything seems to freeze in time. His beautiful light sea coloured eyes. I haven't noticed just how beautiful his eyes are, nearly grey rimmed sea-blue irises. I always thought they were slightly blue, but they could be mistaken for sea-green.

Holy shit.

My hand that was in his hair comes to stroke his profile as I memorize the irises of his eyes, the pigment and intricate details. I could stare into his eyes and forget the world.

Then, with a surprisingly quick and rough thrust, hinting that he's about to ejaculate, I arch my chest up, pushing my head down into the pillow, closing my eyes and moaning much more clearly, biting my lip as I can feel the fucking wonderful feeling of my nearing-orgasm.

"Don't stop." I whisper and feel Mick's lips on my throat, then a combination of tongue and kiss. That is an exquisite kiss of affection. He's so damn good and he does exactly as I ask him. Even as we reach our fucking mind-blowing climax, he doesn't stop, he continues thrusting with increasing speed and decreasing tenderness. Oh, he's been holding back on me.

I move against him, as if asking for more. I want that roughness, the way he gives it to me.

It's funny in a way; I'm a feminist, I guess you can say, and here I don't give a shit. He's so damn fucking good that I'd let him do just about anything if it feels this fucking good.

And I notice that I swear a bit more.

Less thinking, damn it.

I feel the sheets being pulled, like he's clutching them tightly in his fists. I didn't even notice his hands leaving my body. I also didn't notice that my hands are clawed into his back and ass.

Oops.

Mick gives one good thrust and I gasp, my muscles beginning to relax as I feel this throbbing in my entire lady reproductive system. That would be my orgasm.

"Please don't stop." I say, satisfied with a small smile on my face, eyes still closed. I think I hear a small laugh from Mick.

"As you wish." He whispers into my ear and then kisses that highly sensitive part that's my jawbone near my earlobe. I'm always a little ticklish there. Mick thrusts, but he's tender again. We've both reached our orgasms, but this is just me being greedy.

I open my eyes and see him hovering above me with a slight grin.

"To say I'm enjoying this is an understatement." I whisper because my mind is having such a hard time concentrating on feeling and talking at the same time.

"I'm glad of it." He replies and comes down to me, his lips grazing mine, almost teasingly.

He slows down and then we just embrace, kissing with our arms wrapped around each other. We shift onto our sides as my poor Micky boy is exhausted, but he stays inside me as much as possible. Until going on our sides makes it tricky. So, I raise my leg over onto his hip and squeeze him back in. As we kiss, he can totally feel the smile on my lips.

I'm not letting him go that quickly.


	44. Chapter 44

We lie in bed, kissing and cuddling. I didn't think he was the cuddling type, but when I curled up against him, he held me close, softly stroking my arm, staring into my eyes. I eventually let him pull out of me. I already missed his penis at that point.

But, there's always another time.

A couple of hours from now, maybe?

"We should shower." He says softly and I grin.

"Together? That sounds nice, but I'd rather not wash off the smell of your cologne from my skin." I add with an innocent smile that makes his lips twitch into a small grin. Then an idea hits me. Showering together could maybe lead to shower sex. Oh, that sounds great.

Mick begins to sit up, making me feel a little on alert. He glances over at the floor, our clothes everywhere. I follow his gaze and hold a hand to his chest, getting his eyes to meet mine, and I grin.

"Your pants, I assume?" I ask and his lips twitch as he gives me a small smile.

"Yes, my trousers." He replies and I grin.

"People still say _trousers_ nowadays?" I ask and smile. "I'll get them for you, giving you the chance to look at my ass, since you haven't seen it yet." I add with a wink and a smirk. I push myself to the edge of my bed and get out of the warm bed, walking over to grab his pants. I bent over and pick them up as well as his dress shirt. I toss him his pants, smiling seductively as I slowly put his shirt on, watching him stare at my body, then meeting my eyes with a grin.

I crawl back into bed, loving his shirt on me, and smiling at him as he…

Doesn't get out of bed to put his pants on. Instead, he searches his pockets and pulls out a little silvery…

Ring?

I stare at it, speechless and thoughtless.

"I found this in the back of the cutlery drawer in the kitchen, shortly after you began scrying for three hours." Mick begins and all I can think of is what the fuck is happening. Is he proposing? No way. Right after sex? To me? No fucking way. Like, I fucking wish, but there's no way. "I suppose it was forgotten. I came to check on you and I sat in your chair, just staring at the ring, then at you." He adds and all I can do is look from the ring to Mick as he watches my expression; expression of absolute terror. "I tried to research how the Men of Letters might kill the hunters without using my credentials. I couldn't take my mind off you. I kept wondering if you might marry me." He says and I can't think of anything to say, as there's so much going on in my head.

But, I do manage to think of something.

"That's why you were so bitchy?" I ask and he fights the urge to frown. "I wake up, you ask me to tell you _all_ the reasons why I resurrected you, not one of them saying _I love you_. So you get all cold on me because you've been thinking of asking me to marry you and I made you think that I didn't love you?" I ask and he seems uncertain of where I'm going with this. He stays silent, waiting for me to go on.

Only I can't. I need him to tell me more.

"I realize this is rather quick. I hadn't planned it like this, or at all, really. I haven't had someone like you in my life and I'd rather not lose it." He says and I see him trying to close the door on this moment. Yet again, I make him feel like I don't love him.

Like Hell I don't love him!

"Oh, Micky Baby… Fuck yeah." I say and he looks at me, at my bright smile and he now frowns with confusion. "All I want is to be with you. Please, don't think that's the reason why I resurrected you. I would have even if I didn't have the slightest feeling for you. But fuck, I do love you and fuck yes, I will marry you." I say and take the ring out of his hand, slipping it on my finger so quickly that he does a double take. I stare at the ring and smile, my heart pounding.

I can't believe Mick asked me to marry him. It's so surreal! This could also be one of Tricia's long ass curses to drive me insane for all eternity, but she can't conjure good sex like that. I doubt the bitch ever had any to begin with.

"I believe I am to place the ring on your finger." He says and I look at him, still with my smile. I yank it off and give it back to him, holding out my left hand, watching as he tenderly slips it on my finger, holding my hand and then bringing it to his lips, his eyes locked with mine.

Mick releases my hand, moving closer to kiss or snuggle, but I quickly take off the ring and give it back to him, making him frown with confusion.

"Again." I say and he takes the ring, looking at me with an arched eyebrow. "Please, do it again." I say, so he grins and places the ring on my finger again, even holding my hand up to his lips, looking at me like he could fuck me again.

I shiver with anticipation and make this little squeak of excitement. Mick pulls me closer, his face in my neck as I wrap my arms around his shoulders, looking at my ring. He kisses my neck, his arms around my waist, then I pull back a little. We sort of place our foreheads together, our arms still around each other.

"I have wanted this moment since I first saw you. You are beautiful, confident and mysterious; unlike any woman I've encountered. I couldn't treat you like I did the girls in my youth." He says and I let out a soft laugh, highly flattered, but finding a bit of comedy to ease the emotional level of this moment. He keeps up like this and I'm going to cry.

I don't want to cry shortly after sex.

"You make yourself sound like an old man." I say and he smiles. I can tell by the wrinkles around his eyes.

"I was angry that you hadn't told me that your spell to resurrect me has made me immortal, however the heartbroken expression on your face before you disappeared to the institution left me to realize that you were as vulnerable as I had been. I couldn't stop thinking about you. I wasn't sure how to feel; thankful or indebted. I wanted to find you, not just for answers, but because I felt as though I hadn't seen all there is of you in order to be so angry." Mick says and I just listen, blown away that he felt this way the entire time. It's incredible.

"I was in the motel not far from here before the seer contacted me." I say softly and he pulls back enough to look into my eyes. "I thought I could fix everything." I add and he brushes a strand of my hair out from my face. Not that it was in my face.

"I thought you were punishing yourself. I felt unbelievably guilty." He replies and this surprises me because that's not what I saw when he came to get me.

"Well, I think we're pass all that." I say with a slight smile to lighten the mood. His lips casually reveal a little smile as he caresses my arm.

"I want you to know, Celeste, that my love for you is not at all a sense of obligation." He replies and I grin, wrapping my arms around his neck, looking down at his lips. "I have never met a woman like you. I didn't want to lose you; you being the only one who's ever cared about me, the only good thing that came into my life that didn't want to take something from me, but rather give it all back." He adds and I look into his eyes, feeling like I'm about to cry.

Fuck these emotional moments.

"I love you, Mick." I say and I give him a tender kiss, pulling back and letting my arms fall away, my hands sliding down his chest. Built pretty good for a guy in a suit, sitting behind a desk as an administrator.

"Mick and not Micky Baby?" He asks and I laugh softly as I look at his slightly arched eyebrow with curiosity.

"I've been calling you Micky behind your back this whole time." I say with a grin, making him smile. "Shower?" I ask and I take his pants, throwing them across the room, laughing as he gives me this playfully unimpressed look. I quickly get out of the bed, dancing a little in his shirt that just covers my ass. "Last one to the shower has to wash the other." I say and nearly throw the door open, racing to the bathroom where the shower awaits us.


	45. Chapter 45

Mick played by the rules and washed me for being the last to the shower, not that he complained. I don't even think he tried to beat me. You know, I think he wanted to wash my body. He skipped the small towel and rubbed me down with soapy hands. There wasn't a part of my body he didn't wash. For a moment, I thought he was going to finger my honey pot.

I was a little disappointed, but he did spend some time buttering my ass.

I offered to wash him in return, but he grinned at me and kindly refused. Yet again, a little disappointed, but I teased him by rubbing my ass against his penis. He didn't refuse that.

After about an hour in the shower, playing with soap and grinding each other, we go to our rooms and get dressed, meeting each other in the base room. Mick stands there, smiling at me with his hands in his pockets. As I approach, he slips his hands out of his pockets and reaches a hand out to me. I take his hand and he leads me down a corridor, to the garage probably.

"Where are we going?" I ask and he glances over at me with a slight smile.

"Out for dinner." He replies and I smile at him, feeling like I'm living a dream. I had sex with Mick and then he proposes? That does sound like a dream. What if I'm really not here? What if, in reality, I'm stuck in the mental hospital and this is just another sick twisted nightmare conjured by the seer? I know I thought that earlier, but what if it's true. There's no way a guy like Mick falls knee-deep in love and decides to marry the woman so shortly after a couple of days of knowing her, spending a week trying to find her. It's like I've bewitched him.

 _It's real. He does love you._

Are you sure?

 _Yes. You know his life, he never had anything good. He's got a renewed life with someone who loves him. Right now, he only cares about you and how it feels to be loved._

Good point.Thanks Clotho!

"Plus, you said the Men of Letters set up a trap. If the Winchesters do become sealed in the bunker, Ketch will make sure there is no way out. He's thorough. They'll need us on the outside." Mick adds then his jaw sets, as if just thinking of Ketch pisses him off. "And I could kill him." He concludes and I stop, making him glance at me.

And here I thought he was being romantic. I smirk a little, but I know we have to handle Ketch better than that. If he dies, Hess will know something is up. Plus, Ketch is never alone.

"And if you do, Mary might shoot you. She won't kill you, because you can't die, but it'll hurt like Hell. She might tell Hess you're alive and then Hess might get backup. I know you want Ketch dead and so do I, but timing is key." I reply and he gives me this slight put off look. Yeah, you know I made a damn good point.

"Timing? I don't need a grand entrance." He says and I fight the urge to roll my eyes.

"Ketch is thorough, you said so yourself. But he has no idea you're undead. I just know this is going to be big. I haven't seen it yet, but I feel it's better your renewed existence be kept a secret from the Men of Letters a little while longer. Please, trust me on this." I reply and he looks away, not keen on hiding while his killer seals the Winchesters into the bunker and walks away. "I'm sorry, but if anything changes the course of Fate for those pricks, like fear of seeing you alive, could fuck things up for the hunters." I add and he meets my eyes, then nodding a couple of seconds later.

"You trust me." He says and I smile softly as he recalls the time I told him that. "So, I trust you." He adds and gives me a slight smile as we walk into the garage, going with the same posh looking car. That would be the one he drove to get me out of the looney bin.

Mick gets the keys and we get into the car, as he starts the engine, I start getting a flash of a vision. It's of Ketch and Mary. Something tells me that if we leave right now, a few minutes after our departure, they get in.

Mick begins backing out of the garage and I glance at the clock, feeling a bit of panic. As long as Mick doesn't stop or slow down, we should be good.

We're out of the garage and Mick puts it into drive, getting away from the bunker. I glance out the window, seeing the sky darkening to pitch black. There aren't any other lights and I don't feel anyone else around. My mind's eye doesn't sense anyone else.

"Celeste?" Mick asks, noticing that I'm staring out the window.

"They'll be here soon." I reply, only now sitting comfortably in my seat. I glance at him and tap his leg. "I think it'll be a couple of hours before the Winchesters return." I add, sort of shivering at the thought that the Men of Letters will be in the bunker, possibly going through my room.

Bastards.

I know I should be way more terrified than I am now, knowing he'll lock the Winchesters up. I know Mick should be more worried too. I don't think he was always the concerning type, but now as an immortal, he sort of seems careless. Well, not that he doesn't care, but trusts that I'll see the outcome and he trusts that things will be fine.

"Are you cold?" Mick asks. Did I shiver that badly that it was noticeable?

"No, just creeped out. I really don't like Ketch. He's cute, but I wouldn't sleep with him." I reply and glance over at him to see this sharp arched eyebrow and this slight clench of his jaw. "What? I just said he's cute. But he's no match for you." I add and he doesn't seem very impressed, but shakes it off and keeps driving. "So much for not being jealous." I add with a slight grin.

"The man is a psychopath." Mick replies, as if to say that justifies his sense of disgust that I labelled jealousy.

"Sociopath." I correct and he gives a little grunt. "The point is, Micky Baby, I love you and hate him." I conclude and he remains silent, until I start rubbing his leg, getting closer to his groin. "You are way more handsome than Ketch. You have beautiful eyes, a great personality and I fucking love everything about you. Ketch is just pretty, but fucking ugly on the inside." I add, rubbing his groin subtly.

"That's a good point." He replies and I let out a small victorious laugh. I pull my hand away and he shifts in the driver's seat, as if trying to shake off the boner I just gave him.

"So, what restaurant? The only restaurant I saw was a bar with burgers." I say and the corner of his lips twitch, as if he's grinning.

"I could use a burger." He replies and I smile as I look out the window, my mind going over the seriousness of what's about to happen. The Winchesters get sealed into the bunker, along with Toni, Amelia and Lindsey I'm sure. The Men of Letters have a brainwashed Mary and there's going to be a battle around the corner, I know it.

And I'm going for a drink and a burger with my fiancé Mick Davies.

I like the sound of that: my fiancé Mick Davies. I'm going to be Celeste Davies.

Oh my gosh… how are we to have a wedding in this madness? Are we even having a wedding? Are we going to talk about it at some point?

Listen to me. People can die and I'm thinking of my wedding.

Horrible…

We might have to elope.

Mick pulls up in front of the restaurant. I actually labelled the place with generosity. This is just a meeting place that offers alcohol and something to eat. There's pool tables, darts and televisions on sport channels.

How romantic.

Mick and I go in, going straight to a booth away from the windows in case Killer Creepy Ketch passes in front. Or God forbid… walks in. Fortunately, I can go instant invisible.

As we sit, some guys at the bar look at us and I can see they're the type that prey on people they deem rich and naive. They think Mick and I are vulnerable and easy pickings.

Losers.

Mick looks through the menu, not noticing the guys at the bar. They whisper to each other, glance a little in our direction and the second one of them moves in our direction, I stare at him, casting the ancient look in my eyes. He stops, meeting my eyes, and backs up to the bar.

I pick up a menu, looking at it. Fast foods is a good way to describe it.

"What do you think?" He asks, not looking up from his menu. I arch an eyebrow and glance back at the men at the bar, looking over at me as their buddy tells them stuff. He's probably scared.

"Artery clogging foods and creepy older guys staring at us." I say and he looks up, a little lost. "Romantic." I add and I look at him, seeing this blank expression.

"Clos Maggiore was booked with reservations for four months." Mick sarcastically replies, as if offended at my clearly snobby remark. I didn't mean for it to be snobby. And, by the way, just what the heck is Clos Maggiore?

"I'm just saying, we are going to need a little romantic trip." I reply, a little hint to a wedding, perhaps. Mick's lips reveal a small smile, maybe an agreement. "A nice hotel suite at Las Vegas or a cozy room on a cruise ship." I add, feeling horrible about myself as I act like we don't have Men of Letters with an extermination plan. Not to forget Lucifer and his Nephilim kid.

At that moment, a mild aged woman with too much makeup comes to get our order. Mick orders a cheeseburger and I decide to go with the same. Fuck, I'll have Scotch too, although I don't know which one of us is going to drive.

Does it matter?

Mick puts our menus away and just stares at me, so I make myself as cute as I can be, which is my fists under my chin, this charming smile and batting my eyelashes. It makes him smile.

"I'm glad to see your confidence is back." He says and I place my hands on the table, open so he can place his hands in mine. And he does. We hold hands, staring at each other.

"I'm glad you asked me to marry you." I say and as we enjoy each other's company, I feel this flash of a vision. Amelia and Lindsey come around to a car as Sam and Dean have their guns pointed at Toni Bevelle. Just as the Men of Letters set up the trap in the bunker.

Oh joy.


End file.
